


Mabel and Ford for Gravity Falls

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Also I'm rambling in the tags, Also hot centaurs, And scary monsters, Demonic Possession, Dipper and Stan get kidnapped, Gen, Grunkle Ford Has Issues, Lots of fairies, Mabel also gets a friend, OC?, Please note that this is before Journal 3, TW: Blood, TW: Panic Attacks, TW: Violence, TW: suicidal thoughts, There are a lot of possible trigger warnings, Waddles gets a friend, characters might be OOC, it's my first fic, lots of fluff, tw: Nightmares I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The two biggest dorks get sent on a mission to save Gravity Falls and prove themselves after Dipper and Grunkle Stan are kidnapped. Copious amounts of Mabel and Ford fluff within. Set before The Last Mabelcorn, after The Stanchurian Candidate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! This is my first fic on here everyone! I originally posted this on fanfiction.net but I'm gonna do some serious editing on it on this site and hopefully draw more views. Anyway, I shouldn't ramble. I hope you enjoy!

“Good morning, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said from the kitchen. “Grunkle Stan made Stancakes.”

“Morning, Great Uncle Ford,” Dipper said.

“Eh,” said Stan. “Hey, bro.” He didn’t look up from his newspaper, instead just sipping at a mug of coffee.

Ford was already dressed in his usual red sweater and brown trench coat. He looked uncertainly about at the homey group, feeling like he didn’t quite belong. “N-no thanks,” he declined, grateful that nobody seemed to notice the quiver in his voice.

“Come on, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel insisted, “at least try some of my Mabel Juice?”

“What is...Mabel Juice?”

“DON’T TRY IT!” Stan and Dipper cried, shooting out of their chairs.

“It’s a blend of caffeine, sugar, more caffeine, glitter, and plastic dinosaurs,” the girl explained, pouring a liberal amount into a juice cup and taking a generous swig.

Ford shuddered. “I’ll pass, Mabel,” he said. He instead walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a large helping of coffee. He took a sip of it black and shuddered. “Weak,” he coughed, and poured the drink down the sink. “Very weak.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘weak’?” he cried. “That was my extra-strength coffee!”

“Not strong enough for me,” Ford said cooly, and began to make his own.

The others watched in horrified fascination as Ford made a cup of coffee that was at least five times stronger than Stan’s. “You could stay awake for days on that stuff!” Stan exclaimed.

“That’s kind of the point,” Ford replied under his breath.

“What did you say, Poindexter?” Stan growled.

“Nothing of importance.” Ford glowered back.

“I think I have a right to know.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Mabel said, walking between the pair who were shooting daggers at each other. “Let’s not fight now. We can talk it out and find out what the problem is. Just hug it out!” She tried to tug on Ford’s coat, but he ripped it from her grasp and, with a dramatic flair of the brown fabric, took his coffee and bad attitude back downstairs behind the vending machine.

The room was quiet. Then, Mabel said, “Why can’t you two just _get along_?” and dropped her pitcher of Mabel Juice on the floor as she ran out of the room, wiping desperately at her eyes.

“I’ll...go after her,” Dipper said, and also left the room, calling his sister’s name. He followed her upstairs to the attic, where he heard soft sobs. “Mabel,” he said, “I’m coming in.”

“Sweatertown’s not accepting calls right now,” she whimpered as he entered, tucked into a corner behind the door, her sweater pulled over her head.

“Well, the secretary of Sweatertown should send out the message that Dipper’s come to get Mabel,” he said gently. “Look, Mabel,” he continued, sitting down beside her and putting a hand on her shoulder, “it’s been like thirty years since they last saw each other, and forty since they were friends. What did you expect? A giant party?”

Her reply was muffled. “It would be better than what I got.”

“I know, I understand. Just give them some time. It’s going to take a while for them to reconcile. Like you and Pacifica--you had to face real conflict before making up. Maybe there will be a problem in Gravity Falls someday that will be big enough to bring them together again.”

While Dipper was talking, Mabel had pulled her sweater down. She was staring, not at him, but just over his head. “D...Dipper?” she squeaked.

“Let me guess...I shouldn’t turn around?” Mabel’s eyes were huge. Then, there was chaos. Tentacles everywhere. A pungent and foul odor. Dipper being grabbed by huge, thick, black tentacles. One of them knocked Mabel into the door, cutting her forehead and slamming the door shut. As she blacked out, she saw Dipper, unconscious and pale, being carried out of a freshly broken window.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Stan was left alone with his thoughts, most of them angry. Why did that big know-it-all always have to ruin their mornings? Worst of all, the reclusive jerk had made his niece cry! It always broke Stan’s heart when Mabel cried. He had half a mind to go after his brother and punch him for making Mabel sad. He got up and typed the code into the vending machine. The elevator creaked as it went down to the lowest level. “Ford,” he called, stepping out.

“Stan, what are you doing down here?” Ford cried angrily. “I’m doing some very important wo--!” He was cut off midsentence by Stan’s glare. “What did I do?”

“You made Mabel cry.” Stan’s shock grew as Ford stared blankly at him. “Why’re you giving me that look, Poindexter? Don’t you feel _anything_?”

Ford turned his back on Stan. “I have to work,” he said quietly.

“Why is it always ‘work’ this and ‘work’ that? Don’t you ever get lonely? Don’t you ever want to spend time with your family?” Stan grabbed his brother’s shoulder and spun him around to face him. “Look at me, Stanford, our family is falling apart, and has been since I opened that portal. I spent thirty years trying to get you home to us...to me...and I’m greeted by _this_. Maybe I just should have left you there.” Stan turned and returned upstairs, leaving a shell-shocked Ford behind him.

Stan decided to go and check on Dipper and Mabel. He went to the attic to see if Mabel was alright. When he knocked on the door, he didn’t hear anything. He was just a little worried, and called, “Mabel, sweetie...Dipper?” He got no answer.

Now he was very worried. “I’m coming in,” he said to the door, and turned the knob. Mabel laid unconscious on the floor, a nasty-looking cut on her head. The window was broken and Dipper was nowhere to be seen. Stan rushed to the little girl and shook her shoulder. “Mabel, pumpkin, wake up,” he gasped.

Something tapped his shoulder. “Dipper! Thank--!” It wasn’t Dipper.

Stan and the Thing fought fiercely over the unconscious Mabel. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t let it get her. As he wrestled it, he saw Mabel beginning to wake up. “Mabel, Mabel, go get Ford!” Stan yelled. “Run!” The girl stood, disoriented, but saw the Thing and recognized the danger.

“I’ll get him, Grunkle Stan!” she shouted, and ran. The Thing shot one of its tentacles towards the door, but Stan continued punching it and when it finally was able to open the door, Mabel was gone. “Atta girl, Mabel,” Stan sighed. The Thing was slowly constricting him, making him dizzy, crushing him. He couldn’t breathe...couldn’t breathe...darkness.

* * *

 

Mabel typed the code into the vending machine and tore down the stairs. She was shaking so badly she could barely stand, and she typed in the symbols to access the elevator with trembling fingers. The elevator couldn't go fast enough. “Grunkle Ford!” she cried, running towards the old man who was hunched over a desk, meticulously writing something. “You have to help!”

“Not now, Mabel,” he said absently, turning a page and looking over at some notes. “But Grunkle Ford--”

“Can't you see I'm busy?” he snapped.

“Grunkle Ford, they’ve got them!” she sobbed, tugging at his coat.

“I don't have time for games right now,” he yelled, turning to escort her back upstairs...and saw the panicked expression, the tears on her cheeks, and the deep cut on the forehead of the shaking girl. “Oh.” Ford opened his mouth to say something calming, but he stopped short and, with a gasp, lunged forward to catch the girl as she passed out.

* * *

 

Mabel woke up lying on a couch back upstairs. “Grunkle...Grunkle Ford?” she murmured, blinking blearily at the ceiling.

“Oh, Mabel. Thank goodness you’re--” He stopped short at the chilly gaze she gave him when she saw him. “Is...something wrong?”

“Don’t think I don’t remember how you acted towards me in the basement,” she said coolly.

Ford’s eyes widened. “I...Mabel, I….” The girl rolled over on the couch so her back was to him.

There was a long silence in which Ford awkwardly struggled to find words. Then, Mabel said to the back of the sofa, “Would you have listened to Dipper if he’d come instead of me?”

Ford hadn’t actually considered that. Of course he would have listened to Dipper. “Y-yes,” he said guiltily.

“Then why didn’t you believe me?”

He heard the tears and the hurt in her voice. He stretched out a six-fingered hand to touch her shoulder, and she flinched when he made contact. This pained him more than anything. “I...Mabel….” He shuddered with the knowledge that _he_ had made this innocent girl cry. “I’m sorry.” He hung his head.

Mabel turned over again. “Grunkle Ford?”

He would still have to get used to the “Grunkle” thing. “Mmm?”

“I forgive you.” She sat up and flung her arms around his neck.

He awkwardly hugged her back, having not experienced a hug in over forty years. It was a feeling he’d have to get used to all over again.

“Now, Mabel,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and holding her at arm’s length, “what happened to Dipper and Stanley?”

Mabel sniffed. “I-I don’t know, all I remember is lots and lots of black tentacles and a great big red eye! It took Dipper and knocked me out. When I woke up Grunkle Stan was trying to protect me. He told me to find you and it took him away.”

Ford nodded understandingly. “Right. I’m going to have to do a lot of research to find out what we’re up against, how powerful it is, what species it is, and whether it’s even worth going after our brothers.” With a sweep of his trench coat, he left Mabel alone in the room, his openness gone.

Mabel sat on the couch for a long moment, staring after the old man, before she sighed and with fake cheeriness said, “Well, those sweaters aren’t going to make themselves!” She fetched her knitting material and brought it down to the living room, where she curled up on Grunkle Stan’s armchair and turned on Ducktective to occupy her while she knitted her latest sweater. “I wonder if Grunkle Ford would like a sweater?” she thought aloud. “I’d like to make one for him. Maybe he’d like me more. But what size would he need?”

She knitted furiously, deep in thought. Maybe she could sneak into his room and look at one of his old sweaters--beat-up as they were--and see if she could figure out the size he’d need. She threw aside her sweater she’d been making and hopped off the chair, the TV still blaring as she ran from the room. Tentatively, she approached his room. It seemed to be empty, so she pushed the door open and peeked her head in. It was bright in the room, lit by the afternoon sunlight. Mabel snuck over to his bureau and opened a drawer. “Uck,” she muttered, looking at the beat-up sweaters inside. “Grunkle Ford, you really need new sweaters.”

Mabel quickly grabbed a sweater and ran for it, snagging her knitting materials and taking everything upstairs to the attic. “And now for Grunkle Ford’s first Mabel Original,” she sighed happily.

* * *

Stanford was in his element, jotting down notes and flipping through his journals in excitement. “It could have been an octoarborpus, but I’m thinking those are green, not black. And it couldn’t have been a wraith, because those only gain physical form at night.” He went to shove papers off of his desk, then stopped. He picked up a small globe and stared at it. Inside roiled an inky star-filled bubble. “It’s not going to hold forever,” he muttered. Setting that safely on a shelf out of the way, he continued with his research.

He heard pattering footsteps far overhead. What was Mabel doing up there? He hoped she was safe. Definitely safer up there than being down here with him, that was for sure. Ford knew that Dipper knew how to handle dangerous situations and could deal with a lot of problems. However, Mabel was...different. She saw things so much differently than he did, and he didn’t want that to get her hurt. The biggest problem was how she saw the good in everything, even if that good wasn’t there. What if she came across a monster and tried to make friends with it? She could get killed in an instant!

Then again, Mabel was able to make friends with anything. Even Stanley. Ford wasn’t quite sure how the kids did it, but they brought out a side of his brother that he hadn’t seen for forty-some years.

He listened to try and hear what the child was doing.

Silence from upstairs.

Silence everywhere.

Ford was alone, and he didn’t know where his nephew or his brother were, and the little girl upstairs probably hated him. He had been trapped in another dimension for thirty years and in that time only one person had known, and that person had taken on his entire identity and committed nearly every crime under his name. He had come out of the portal swinging, violent, angry, confused. He’d hated his brother for thirty years, the anger festering in the portal, his mind rejecting the idea that Stanley was his twin. He didn’t even know why he hated his brother anymore: he’d gone to college, he’d gotten the grants, he’d lived his dream life researching the anomalies of Gravity Falls--basically everything he’d ever dreamed of doing.

Except for going to that college, the one he really wanted to go to. And he shouldn’t be angry at Stanley, he knew that, but when one has held a grudge for forty years, it’s hard to just drop it, Ford supposed. It was probably an accident anyway. Stanley would never sabotage anything of Ford’s, even if it meant letting him move to the other side of the country.

Ford’s forehead hit the desk and he wrapped his arms around it as he let the tears fall, his shoulders shaking. He was the worst person in the entire multiverse. The emptiness that came with that knowledge nearly destroyed Ford.

“Screw the Rift,” he muttered thickly, standing up and rubbing at his eyes, “screw Weirdmaggeddon, screw this family, screw the Universe. I don’t care anymore.” He walked over to a drawer and grabbed a pistol. “I’m done here. I’m not worth this!” he said aloud to himself. “The world doesn’t need me anymo--!” He stopped dead in his tracks, gun halfway to his head. “Mabel,” he gasped.

The girl stood at the top of the stairs, clutching a wad of green fabric and staring in horror at her uncle. “Grunkle Ford,” she squeaked.

* * *

**VRPH ZRXQGV DUH PRUH WKDQ SKBVLFDO.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel shows Ford how loved he is. Meanwhile, Dipper and Stan wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I know, it's been over a week! But I'm back now with an all-new chapter!

Ford dropped the gun quickly and turned his back, scrubbing once more at his damp face. “Hello, Mabel,” he said gruffly, trying to busy his hands with notes and papers. “Not now, I’m doing some important work.” He knew she wouldn’t buy it.

“What kind of work involves holding a gun to your head?” she quavered. “Grunkle Ford, don’t try to trick me. I may not be as smart as Dipper or you, but I’m not  _ that  _ dumb.”

Ford sighed. “I know, Mabel. I know.” He stopped what he was doing. “If you knew what I’ve been through--”

“I made you something,” she cut in.

“What?”

She held out the piece of fabric. It was a sweater knitted with deep forest-green yarn and decorated with a golden six-fingered hand. “I thought you could use a new sweater, cause yours are all beat up.”

He realized what she was doing: trying to distract him from his crushing thoughts. Ford appreciated that a lot. “Thanks Mabel,” he said with an almost genuine smile.  _ Sweet kid,  _ his internal monologue said.  _ A lot like Stanley. _

Ford shook that thought away. It hurt too much.

“Grunkle Ford, you’ve gotta put it on!” The little girl looked up at him with a dazzling smile and huge puppy eyes. “Please?”

The old man sighed. “I….” The eyes continued staring at him. He  _ wanted  _ to tell her that he wasn’t in the mood, that he’d rather be alone, that he was just feeling so awful, that he didn’t want her around...but of course, most of those were lies anyway.  _ Wouldn’t hurt to just make the kid happy. _ “Okay,” he decided. “Give me a moment.”

Ford walked upstairs with Mabel and headed for his room. “Wait outside,” he instructed, and ducked into his room, shutting the door with a  _ phew. _

He took a moment to regain some form of composure before lifting off his red sweater and slipping the green one on instead. To his surprise it fit him perfectly--plus, the green looked startlingly good on him. He appeared years younger, despite his grey hair. “How does she do it?” he whispered.

There was a loud tapping at his door. “Grunkle Ford! Are you almost ready?”

“Coming, Mabel!” he called back. He took one last check in the mirror and, with a deep breath, emerged from his room.

“Wow,” Mabel said enthusiastically, “that really does look good on you! I knew green was your color!” She frowned. “Though, it could use more glitter….”

“No, no, really, it’s fine!” Ford protested, waving his hands nervously. He would tolerate sweaters. He would tolerate millions of questions. He would tolerate slipping up. But he would not tolerate glitter.

“No, it’s not fine!” Mabel squeaked, and ran off.

Ford’s hand came up to his face with a  _ smack  _ as he facepalmed. This child was going to kill him before he got there himself.

He was alone again, he realized, and suddenly the full force of everything that had happened today hit him like a train. Ford staggered back, hands going back to catch himself against the wall, a wall that used to be his but belonged to a different man, a man who had stolen his face and his name and his house and his work and his life. His twin brother and nephew were gone. A little girl was convinced that he hated her. And he had, just minutes before, almost shot himself in the head.

“Grunkle Ford, I’m here with the emergency glitter!” Mabel grinned at him and flung a handful of green and silver glitter at her Grunkle.

Ford spluttered as some of it got in his mouth. That stuff was probably dangerous when swallowed. “Mabel,” he said exasperatedly, “not now.”

“But Grunkle Ford, I wanna help! I want you to feel better. You can’t go looking for our brothers when you’re all sad and mopey!” She grinned a braces-filled grin at him. “So cheer up! What can Doctor Mabel do for you?”

Ford hesitated. It wasn’t like him to talk to children so much, and he didn’t know how to even act around this ball of positivity. What  _ could _ a little girl do for him? “Uh, I don’t know,” he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “What would you suggest?”

The child appeared deep in thought for a minute, then her face lit up. She grabbed Ford’s calloused and scarred hand and raced from the room, dragging him with her and shouting, “I know just the thing!”

Ten minutes later the pair was seated at the kitchen table with paper and pencils in hand. “I saw your drawings in your journals and thought you were really good,” Mabel said, “so maybe we could draw some pictures. Art sometimes makes people feel better.”

Ford nodded and began to sketch. Mabel put pencil to paper as well, and soon the two were doodling away. After several minutes, Mabel asked, “What are you drawing?” She craned her neck to better see what her grunkle was drawing.

It was a detailed likeness of the Mystery Shack, surrounded by pine trees waving in an unseen wind. “Wow, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel gasped, “that’s really good.”

Stanford did not respond, instead adding more detail to the wood grain of the porch. His thoughts were a whirling storm of worry, anger, and pain, and he was afraid that if he tried to speak he’d say something regrettable.

Mabel saw the look on his face. “Grunkle Ford--if you want to go back down and try researching again, I mean...I can help. I can tell you what I saw and help you find what you’re looking for.”

Ford looked up at the child. “Thanks, Mabel,” he said, regaining some of his old vigor. He was back in his element of science again! “Let’s go down and see what we can find.”

He stood and was about to fling his coat dramatically behind him and stride ahead to his lab, when he felt a small hand grab his. “We’ll do this together,” Mabel said firmly.

Ford stared ahead for a moment, registering that last word. “Yeah,” he said softly, “together.” Then, hand in hand, they disappeared into the depths of the lab.

oooooo

Meanwhile, Dipper and Stan found themselves in a cave. A dark cave. Surrounded by dripping, squelching, slithering noises. Something slimy brushed against Dipper’s arm, and he yelped. “Grunkle Stan, where are Mabel and Great Uncle Ford?”

“They’re gonna help us, kid...I hope,” the old man replied, the effort making his crushed ribs hurt. “Agh...they’d better hurry it up, though. I’m too old for this.”

Dipper laughed weakly at this, his uncle’s dark humor not doing much for his mood. “Grunkle Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Mabel’s okay without us?”

Stan nodded. “Yeah, of course. She’s Mabel. She’s always okay.”

Dipper was quiet, but he knew better. She wasn’t okay. She was Mabel.

oooooo

“Grunkle Ford, what does this mean?” Mabel asked, pointing to a word in Ford’s notes.

“That means highly dangerous.”

“And this one?”

“Poisonous.”

Mabel wrinkled her nose. “They weren’t captured by one of these, I hope,” she continued, gesturing to a blobby monstrosity. “But I think it’s too purple.”

Ford nodded. “How about this one?” he asked, holding up a picture for Mabel to see.

She screamed and scrambled back. “Yeah, that’s it,” she gasped. “What is it?”

“It’s a--” here Ford said a name that was too long for Mabel to remember.

“Oh.” Mabel tried to act like she knew what he was talking about. Maybe he’d like her better if she understood him. “So this Valopian Para-Trucks thing…is it really bad?”

“Valorian Poratrax,” Ford corrected automatically, “and yes, it is quite bad. I’m not sure what they were doing out during the day, but it fits your description.” He set the paper down on his desk. His eyes turned up in thought. 

“But why were they after our brothers? They usually don’t instigate conflicts,” he mused. “Unless...they weren’t the ones behind this.”

“What do you mean, Grunkle Ford?”

“I mean,” he said, crouching down to Mabel’s eye level, “our brothers have been kidnapped by outside sources. And I am determined to get them back under any terms. Are you with me?”

Mabel nodded enthusiastically. “Anything for Dipper,” she said.

And oh, how Ford wished he could go back to those days with Stan. “Alright then,” he said determinedly, standing up, “let us prepare.”

* * *

**GHVSLWH WKH UHSXWH WKH SRRU FUHDWXUHV ZHUH IUDPHG, EXW ZKHQ L DP ILQLVKHG WKH EHDVWV ZLOO VHHP WDPH.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Stan wake up, and Mabel and Ford receive a message.

Dipper squirmed in his bonds, terrified as hot breath gusted past his face. Because of how dim it was in the cave, he had no idea what was right in front of him--just that it was large and very scary. “G-grunkle Stan?” he whimpered.

“It’ll be okay, kiddo,” Stan gasped back, clearly just as frightened as Dipper.

“Hhhhhello,” said a deep, breathy voice that sounded more like it came from the depths of a cavern than right in front of Dipper. “Hhhhhhhi am the Kkkkkeeper of the Sssssacred Chamberssssss. Yyyyyou have been taaaken to serve a puuurpose greater than you could evvvver hope to achievvvvvve.”

“W-what do you want?” Dipper stammered. “What do I have to do?”

“Weeeee must...prepaaaaaare you firsssst.”

“P-prepare? W-what does that mean?”

“Yyyyou...must be ssssstrong enough to complete the tasssssk.”

“So what do I do?”

“I think you mean...what will  _ weeeee _ doooooo?” leered the voice, and the breath got closer. And closer. And closer.

And, trembling with fear, Dipper prayed fervently to whoever was listening to just let Mabel and Ford find him soon.

* * *

 

“Right,” Ford said, grabbing a huge gun. He handed a crossbow to Mabel, wondering silently if it was still okay to give weapons to children. Not that it mattered at the moment; this was more important than her safety.

That’s when a strange winged creature crashed through one of the triangular windows. It continued its hectic course, never straying from its straight line, until it was stopped with a dull  _ thunk _ by a solid wall. It backed up, wobbling drunkenly in midair, until Ford walked over to it and tapped it.

It seemed to be some sort of bird--a cross between an owl and a bat, perhaps?--and attached to a fur-covered talon there was a small electronic device. “It’s a hard drive,” Mabel explained. “Like a floppy disk, but for my generation. You stick it into a computer and get all the information on the drive.”

“Well, let’s stick it into my computer and see what happens,” Ford said.

The two approached the computer and, after a slight hesitation, pushed the drive into the port on the side of the computer. A video showed up in a lone folder. The thumbnail for the video was an image of a very scared Dipper. “Click on it,” Ford told the girl sharply.

Mabel obeyed, and the video began. Dipper’s terrified face became slightly less terrified as he began to speak. “Mabel. First of all. No idea how this guy got a video camera. Second of all. I’m fine. Grunkle Stan is also fine. For the moment, at least. Third of all….” Here he sighed. “I have a task to complete.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. All I know is that if I don’t, the town will blow up. And if I do...I’ll most likely die. Grunkle Stan supposedly plays some sort of part, too, though neither of us knows what he’s good for. So Mabel, I have probably about two weeks to complete this task. It’s gonna take you a long time to find me, so I suggest you start now, because once I finish...whatever this is, I’m only going to have an hour left to live unless you can find something to stop the process. Grunkle Ford, I’m counting on you to find something to stop it. The primary cause of death during this process is an overuse of energy, but other factors such as suffocation and a dangerous fever also play a part. Apparently, very few people have ever survived this.” A strange growl emanated from behind the camera, and Dipper flinched. “I’ve gotta go. Stan sends his love, Mabel, and tells Ford to stay calm.” The video shut off.

“I suppose we have our mission,” Ford sighed.

“But how do we find them?” Mabel asked tearfully, looking up at him.

Ford put a hand to his chin, deep in thought. His eyes roamed the house aimlessly. Suddenly, they lit up. He sprang forward a bit and, with a grin, exclaimed, “I know one way.” He was staring at the furry bird-creature.

The animal blinked its huge round eyes and cocked its head at him. “Twitter?” it said.

Mabel grinned at her grunkle, then at the bird. A sly smile crept across her chubby face. “I think we may be onto something here.”

* * *

 

Dipper did yet another lap around the interior walls of the cavern, his shoes slipping in puddles and catching on uneven patches of rock. He was panting, but whoever his captor was did not allow him to stop. “Yyyyou must be ssstrong,” it kept saying.

The boy leaned against the cave wall and stopped for breath, panting. “Whoo,” he gasped, “tired.”

“I did not tell you to ssstop,” the thing chastised. The tentacled monsters shifted threateningly towards Stan. “Rememberrr our deeeal.”

“No! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dipper sputtered, and returned to running, his sides aching almost as much as his lungs. What task could possibly require this much running? Whatever it was, it was certain to kill him if Ford couldn’t find a way to cure it. With a knot of fear in his gut, he continued running.

* * *

 

The bird squawked and fluttered awkwardly out of Mabel’s hands yet again, feathers flying. “Grunkle Fooord,” she whined, “I can’t catch it!”

“Alright, alright,” he said, looking up from his notes. “Here, let me.” He stretched out his hands to the creature, which perched on a shelf full of snow globes and eyed him inquisitively. Then it reached out a shockingly long neck and pecked his hand sharply. “Ow!” he exclaimed, jumping back, shaking his hand, and startling the bird away once more.

Mabel gave him a skeptical look.

“Not to worry,” Ford said, rubbing the bloody hand on his pants, “I have a device that should do the trick. I’ll be right back.”

He swept from the room and down into his lab, leaving Mabel and the bird alone. “I shouldn’t be gone too long, and Mabel should be fine,” he said to quell the unexplainable worry he felt at leaving the child by herself. “Still, I should get it quickly and get back to her.” 

When he reached his lab, he grabbed his net-thrower and was about to calmly walk back to the elevator when he heard a small shriek from upstairs. His heart rate immediately elevated from fear and he ran back to his elevator. Once inside he opened a hidden compartment and hit a small red button inside it. The elevator shot up. When the doors hissed open, he ran for the stairs shouting, “Mabel!”

* * *

Stanley Pines watched from a corner as Dipper was forced to climb a long rope all the way to the dark recesses of the cavern ceiling. The boy had almost slipped and fallen multiple times, and each time Stanley had tried to run to him only to be stopped by one of the tentacled beasts. Dipper hadn’t had a break in hours, and the child looked on the verge of giving up. He half wondered if Dipper was just going to let go of the rope and fall to his death, but he knew by now that he wasn’t that kind of kid. Dipper would do whatever it took to rescue the people he cared about--which was a bit unnerving since he was twelve.

“Keep goin’, kid!” he called, hoping it would lift Dipper’s spirits and encourage him.

It obviously did when the kid displayed a sudden burst of speed and, in record time, finished climbing the rope.

_ Fightin’ back,  _ Stan grinned to himself.

oooooo

“Mabel!” Ford cried, flinging the lab door wide open.

His arms fell to his sides, the gun clattered to the floor, and his jaw dropped. Blinking dumbly, he stared at the scene before him.

The bat-owl sat perched on Mabel’s shoulder and was affectionately nibbling at her nose. Mabel shrieked again. “H-hello, Grunkle Ford,” she giggled. “I think I have a friend.”

“How--how did you--?” Ford gasped.

“Didn’t Grunkle Stan ever tell you how easily I make friends? This one time I became pen pals with the mail carrier after talking to him for five minutes. I think everything’s just naturally attracted to me.” As if to prove her point, Waddles the pig oinked noisily and nuzzled against her leg.

Ford’s mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his eyebrows had long since disappeared amidst his grey hair. “Um, um,” he spluttered.

“Well...good for you,” he eventually got out, attempting to straighten his shoulders, puff out his chest, and look cool instead of like a spooked owl.

“Thank you,” Mabel returned, still giggling and playing with the bat-owl and her pig. “I suppose...I’d better tell Author to show us where Dipper is, shouldn’t I?”

“Uh...yeah. And--Author?”

“Yeah, silly, I named him after you. I mean, half the time you look like a spooked owl. Come on!” And with a flurry of glitter and a shower of giggles, she was out the door, followed by Waddles, the bat-owl--Author--still happily perched on her shoulder.

Ford’s jaw dropped all over again.  _ Author. _

She’d named a bat-owl after him.

Maybe she didn’t hate him after all?

He shook his head with a small smile and, straightening his coat once more, followed the little girl out into the hazy heat of the late afternoon.

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, long code. Long-ish chapter. Sorry for the wait, had a bit of writer’s block. It’s here now though! I hope you enjoyed it. As always, don’t forget to review this thing and let me know if/where I screwed up in the timeline or if any of my characters seem OOC. But this has been really fun to write so far and I plan to get the next chapter out more quickly. I already have a bunch of ideas stocked up! Flashbacks and drama and mild character death in store for you. I’ll see you all next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford has flashbacks, and Mabel manages to get herself into danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood and character death.

Stanford pulled his black scarf up over his mouth and nose and slid the goggles down over his eyes--completely disguised. He couldn’t be seen--he was a wanted criminal across the entire dimension.  _ If he catches me, I’m as good as dead,  _ Stanford thought, and, shouldering his gun, ran off into the darkness of a strange unearthly night.

* * *

 

“Grunkle Ford, come on! Author’s much faster than you right now,” Mabel shouted.

“Ah--give me a break, Mabel, I’m old,” Ford laughed, struggling to keep up with the energetic little girl and her newly-found friend.

“No breaks!” the child screeched. Despite her size, she could really be a fearsome drill sergeant sometimes.

Ford sighed and, attempting to shake the flashback from his mind, picked up the pace. The pair tramped through the woods away from town at a surprising rate, following the fluttering bat-owl.

After a long period of silent walking punctuated only by a twitter from the awkward bird, a squeal from the excitable girl, or a grunt from an exhausted Ford, Mabel said, “Grunkle Ford, do you want to save Grunkle Stan as much as you want to save Dipper?”

Ford opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “Why would you even ask that, Mabel, of course I want to save my twin brother” before he realized how he had been treating Stan since he came out of the portal.

“Mabel, I--”

The flashback came out of nowhere. Ford stumbled and almost fell as he was hit with a tidal wave of emotions he had once felt and he was flung headlong backwards in time. His stomach churned.

_ He was back in a cave, dark, damp, his scarf discarded beside him, his six-fingered gloves in his trench coat pockets, and a fire burning before him. He reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a photograph, the one of Stanley and him on the Stan O’ War. Stanford held the photo over the fire and considered throwing it in. His hand trembled.  _ “Pines! Pines! Pines!” “You’re a six-fingered freak.” “High six?”

_ Stanford gripped the photograph more tightly before sticking it back into a pocket. _

The flashback faded. “Yes, Mabel, I do want to save Stanley. More than I even want to save Dipper.”

“It’s good to know you care for your other half,” Mabel chirped. “I thought you two hated each other.”

“Now why would you think--?”

_ Ford watched from a window as his twin brother was thrown out of the house where they’d grown up together. Ford called Stanley to his house in Oregon after being apart for ten years, where he promptly threatened to shoot him then told him to go as far away as possible. Ford shoved Stanley into a searing hot symbol on the side of his desk, his twin’s scream of agony echoing in the huge portal chamber. Ford returned after thirty years because of his twin’s determination to have him back only to punch him in the face and lecture him. _

“Mabel,” Ford began hopelessly.

She stared at him for a moment. Then, “Psh, it’s okay. It’s probably some twin thing Dipper and I haven’t discovered yet.” The little girl then proceeded to skip ahead after the bird, vanishing among the trees.

Ford stood in the woods for a moment, for the first time in a long time feeling like the biggest jerk in the entire multiverse. Then he realized that he’d left the little girl all alone in a gigantic forest full of monsters and his heart began to race. “Mabel!” He ran to catch up with the child, but she was nowhere in sight. “Mabel!” he yelled again.

_ “Tina!” he screamed into the smoke. “Tina, where are you?”  _ Dammit, I should never have left her alone.  _ “Tina!” His voice clawed at his raw throat. “Tina, please come out!” _

_ Ford began to tear at chunks of debris, searching desperately for any sign of his friend. IT’S HOPELESS, STANFORD FILBRICK PINES, cackled an echoing voice in his head. _

_ “Bill!” Ford clutched at his head as if trying to tear the demon’s disembodied voice from his mind.  _ It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real…. _ “TINA!” _

_ “F-Ford...here….” The voice was weak, damp, quiet, but it was music to the tattered man’s bloody ears. _

_ He raced to the blonde girl’s side. She was half-buried beneath a chunk of building that had fallen on her after the explosion. Blood coated the side of her face and her neck, and trickled from her mouth as she coughed. “Tina, don’t worry, I’ll get you out,” Ford said desperately. _

_ “Stanford.” He looked at her face wildly. “It’s...too late for...me. Go...defeat Bill Cipher. R-remember...me.” She coughed again, spewing blood onto her chin, then went still. Her green eyes still stared into a sky beyond the orange one above them. _

_ Ignoring the blood and the stench of death already settling on her, Stanford clutched at the young woman’s slim, lifeless body, the body of his only friend in this strange and deadly dimension. _

The flashback ended but the feeling stayed with him.  _ Shouldn’t have left her alone...shouldn’t have left her alone….shouldn’t have...I did. I did, it’s all my fault, she’s gone, she’s gone…. _

_ No. Stanford Pines, collect yourself. Collect yourself and remember where you are and who she is. She is Mabel. She is young. She is strong. She can take care of herself. And you can take care of her. You’re older, you’re stronger, you’re smarter. You are Stanford Pines, and you can save this little girl. This is not Tina. This is your family, and you can do this. _

Stanford took a deep breath through his nose and began to walk, following small traces--trampled leaves, broken twigs, small bat-owl feathers, a bit of glitter. Now that he was calm, it was easy to find the girl. He just had to remain collected in the future, and everything would go smoothly.  _ I’m coming, Mabel, wherever you are. _

* * *

 

“So...I’m just going to be running laps and climbing ropes...for two weeks?” Dipper gasped on one of his short breaks.

“The firsssst week isssss phyyyysical training. The ssssecond week isssssssss….mental training.”

“Mental training?” Stan barked. “Wha’s that?”

“That’s...where youuuuuu come in.” A slimy tentacle jabbed at his left calf and he yelped.

“What’ll I have to do?” he asked, attempting to remain calm.

“Thaaaat isss not for meeee to discussssss with you.”

Stan nodded. “Fair enough.” He shuddered as the tentacle slowly slithered down his ankle and onto the floor.

Dipper watched all of this until something jabbed him painfully in his ribs and the voice barked a command.  _ Come on, come on, _ he thought desperately to Mabel and Ford.  _ Please help. _

* * *

 

Mabel, meanwhile, was in a hole. It was a fairly deep hole, deep enough that she couldn’t get out on her own. Author sat at the edge of the pit, staring at her with a cocked head. His huge eyes glittered dimly. The girl tried once again to stand, and once again cringed at the spike of pain in her ankle. “Grunkle Ford,” she whimpered, “help!”

There was a snarling sound, and Mabel turned only to see that the pit wasn’t just a pit--it contained a huge tunnel leading back into a den. A red-eyed monster crouched within the mouth of the tunnel, foam dripping from between huge bared teeth, midnight-blue hackles raised, giant paws positioned to pounce.

Mabel screamed. The creature leapt.

She was scooped up and suddenly flying through the air, cradled in one arm by “Grunkle Ford!”

“Grappling hook!” he replied as if it was a battlecry, landing them safely on the pine needle-covered ground.

She didn’t let go of him when his feet were firmly on the ground again. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford,” she said softly.

He made an awkward noise. “Well...Dipper wouldn’t be too happy if I just let you die, now, would he?”

She giggled and booped his nose. “Bwap. I don’t think so either.”

They stood there for a moment, until his arm began to tingle. “Oof, you’re heavy,” he complained. “I have to put you down.”

After setting him on the ground, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, his eyes wandering back up to the sky half-hidden by pine trees.

“Onwards!” Mabel cried, not seeming to acknowledge his uncomfortable body language. She pointed a finger towards where Author hovered, waiting, and commenced marching onwards towards where Dipper and Stan were hidden.

Ford stared up at the sunset as he followed the girl.  _ One day down, thirteen to go. _

* * *

 

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	5. Beasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few monsters attack Mabel and Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a lil bit of violence and some blood. It's not terrible though.

Ford and Mabel slept under the stars and the shivering boughs of the pine trees, uncovered and vulnerable. The old man assured his niece that they were perfectly safe, but she still insisted upon cuddling up to his side before falling asleep. He had to admit that, lying beneath a sky of constellations with his arm around a little girl who loved him, this expedition wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it would help him readjust to life in this dimension.

His comfort was short-lived as he dropped off to sleep and once again the echoes of his past flashed past his eyes, letting him see all of his mistakes over and over, unable to wake up. The faces of everyone he’d ever hurt flew by, frowning or screaming or crying or dying: Stanley, Fiddleford, Tina, Mabel….dozens others….

Ford was dimly aware of someone shouting his name, telling him to wake up, wake up, you’re having a bad dream….

He jolted bolt upright, tears hot on his cheeks, covered in pine needles and a sheen of sweat. “Stanley!” he shouted.

It wasn’t Stanley who knelt next to him, but Mabel, her round face concerned. “Grunkle Ford, you were having a bad dream. Are you okay?”

He wasn’t okay. He needed some good strong whiskey, but he had none on him. Instead, he nodded weakly to Mabel. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered, and turned onto his side.

Once he heard the girl’s breathing even out, however, he stood and quietly began pacing, deep in thought.  _ What could possibly want Stanley and Dipper? What is Dipper able to do that Mabel isn’t? Is Stanley going to survive this? How can I possibly stop Dipper’s death in time? Are we even heading in the right direction? Can I--? _

Stanford stopped. He’d heard a noise, he was sure of it. He stared about the clearing. As he looked, his eyes settled on something. His thought process completely ceased except for one thought:  _ Mabel. _

* * *

 

Dipper and Stanley had been dragged awake by their mysterious kidnapper and sat in front of a strange glassy surface. “Wha’s ‘appenin’?” Stanley mumbled.

“Jussst watch. The Guaaaardians are about to do their job,” the voice hissed.

The pair watched as an image appeared on the shiny surface. “Grunkle Ford!” Dipper cried. He couldn’t stop himself. “So he got the mess--!” A sharp whack over the head by one of the tentacled monsters shut him up.

Grunkle Ford was pacing in a moonlit clearing. Mabel lay asleep nearby. “They’re safe,” Stan breathed.

Dipper was the first of the pair to spot it: a pair of gleaming red eyes among the trees at about the same height as Ford himself. Ford apparently saw it as well, because he froze in the middle of his pacing. The man suddenly appeared to compose himself and stared calmly at whatever was in the trees. He said something, but there was no sound coming from the...whatever it was that Dipper and Stan were looking at.

Then the creature lunged at Ford.

* * *

 

 

In hindsight, Ford figured that it was lucky he was awake and walking at that time, or he and Mabel would have both been dead. As it was, he nearly died of terror on the spot after he’d spotted the red eyes in the trees--directly at eye-level with his own.

Ford closed his eyes.  _ You can’t be scared. You cannot be scared. You  _ must not  _ be scared. _ When his eyes opened again, he was relaxed and calm. He would do this. Somehow he would take out whatever this beast was.

Of course, he’d taken out bigger monsters during his adventures through the portal. However, this creature did not seem quite as...well...take-out-able, as some of the other monsters he’d fought in his time.

And God, it was big.

But he would not let it hurt Mabel. It  _ would not  _ hurt Mabel. Dipper needed her. Stanley needed her.

Ford needed her.

So he told the monster. He told it, “You will not hurt Mabel.” And then it pounced.

The whole fight was a blur of pain and blood and fear and desperation. Ford knew he would receive more scars than he already had, but that wasn’t the first thing on his mind. No, the first thing on his mind was keeping Mabel safe. That little girl hadn’t asked for any of this to happen to her: she hadn’t asked for all this supernatural  _ crap,  _ she hadn’t asked for a sudden new uncle, she hadn’t asked to have her trust tested in the most frightening way possible, she hadn’t asked to have her brother stolen from her--she hadn’t asked for any of it. So Ford was going to make sure that not a single choice she had made, not a single moment of this crazy summer, was going to ruin the blessings she found within it.

And when the combat was finally over, when Ford stood trembling and bloody with a gun in his hand over the corpse of the  _ biggest effing wolf  _ he had ever seen, he knew that he  _ was  _ a good person. He knew how to do the right thing, at least sometimes. He wasn’t a complete screwup. And maybe he had atoned for his past mistakes.

“Grunkle Ford?” Mabel mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

She had slept through the whole fight, dear thing. He smiled rather shakily at her. “Go back to sleep, sweetie. Everything’s okay.”

Obviously still too sleepy to notice that he was injured, she nodded and turned back over. The girl was almost instantly asleep.

Ford, however, stayed up the rest of the night guarding her, in case any more of those horrid beasts came to try and take her away from her family. After all, they only had each other--at least for the moment.

* * *

 

“Gah,” spat their kidnapper as the image of Ford standing guard over Mabel vanished, “useless  _ beast. _ ” Its words were not drawn out as if sighed from the depths of an abyss anymore. Now they were short, angry, and equipped with stingers.

The person--thing--grabbed Dipper and Stan by their collars and dragged them across the floor. Stan was flung back against a wall, where he slumped and didn’t move, though Dipper saw he still breathed. The boy was tossed to the floor and handed a rather heavy stone. “You will run with this until you are told to stop,” the thing barked.

Dipper began, his footsteps slower than usual, his body already soaked in sweat before he made it halfway around the cave. He panted and his lungs screamed with every breath. But he was happy because he knew Mabel was in good hands.

They  _ were  _ going to save him, he knew it.

* * *

 

Mabel woke up to a gentle pattering of rain tapping against her face. She sat up and rubbed her fists into her eyes. “Morning, Waddles. Morning, Author. Morning, Grunkle Ford,” she said chipperly, the first smile of the morning already present on her face.

The first thing she saw was Grunkle Ford. His clothes were ripped and he had scratches all over his face and his hands. There was blood all over his clothes. Then she saw the monster lying dead nearby. Her eyes grew to saucers. “Grunkle Ford, are you okay?” she gasped.

He smiled back at her and nodded. “I’m fine. How did you sleep?”

“Fine. But Grunkle Ford, you look  _ awful.  _ Did you sleep at all?”

“Not really,” he laughed. “Not after my nightmare, no.” He stretched a little. “Ah, but we should be going. We have a lot more travelling to do, and I need to figure out how to save Dipper.” He slipped a journal--number two, Mabel thought--out of his coat and began to read while he walked. “Keep up, now,” he added over his shoulder.

Mabel trotted to keep up, unable to stop worrying about her Grunkle, who seemed to limp a little as he walked. She noticed that his speed was not as fast as it had been the day before. However, she knew he would brush her off if she asked him if he was okay. So she followed behind him, her character subdued, with Waddles beside her and Author leading the way.

After nearly an hour, Mabel felt her stomach growl. “Grunkle Ford, I’m hungry.”

“I can...ah...get something for you. Guh,” he said with an involuntary shudder.

“Grunkle Ford, you’re really pale. Are you sure you don’t need sleep?” Mabel asked.

“Agh,” he groaned, “yeah. I’m...fine. I need to get you some...some food. Yeah, that’s...that’s what I’ve got to do.”

“Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said, “I know when people don’t feel good. And you’re acting like Dipper when he was up for forty-eight hours straight. Also, I think you’re bleeding.”

“The bleeding’s stopped,” he replied heavily, “but I do think I should sit down for a bit.”

“Good idea, Grunkle Ford,” she said with a goofy grin and a thumbs-up. “I can go get us something to eat.” She skipped off.

“Don’t pick anything you don’t recognize,” Ford shouted after her.

He closed his eyes to try to focus on something other than the pain all over his body, and in seconds he had already drifted off into sleep.

Mabel, meanwhile, had gone off in search of food. It didn’t take long for her to find trailing vines of blackberries. “Well, what do you know?” she giggled. “Mabel’s done it again!” She thrust her fist into the air in a gesture of triumph. “And now to pick enough for Grunkle Ford and me both.” 

She set about picking the juicy berries, thrilled that the bushy vines were loaded down with the weight of the clusters of fruit. Little did she know that there were several pairs of eyes watching her every move from behind trees and under bushes.

Mabel turned around with her sweater off and turned into a sort of pouch for the berries, and the creatures attacked. She tossed the sweater to the side and, not intimidated in the least by the tiny yet vicious animals, proceeded to start kicking them in the faces with her pointy-toed ballet flats. The animals squealed and fled, their group attack being no match for Mabel. “Nothing is stronger than the power of Mabel!” she shrieked, then grabbed her sweater and headed back to Grunkle Ford.

When she saw him asleep against a tree, she grinned and set about eating her share of the berries. “He’s resting,” she said to Waddles, who had stood guard beside Ford while Mabel was gone. The pig oinked. “Pfbbbt,” Mabel said, waving a hand dismissively, “those things? I beat them up no problem. I was  _ fine. _ Sure I can defend Grunkle Ford while he’s sleeping.”

Waddles stared up at her.

“Ooooh, I love you!” she squealed, and flung her arms around the pudgy creature. He oinked again.

Grunkle Ford began to wake up and said groggily, “Stanley?”

“Psh, no,” Mabel grinned, “it’s me! I brought some blackberries for you.”

“Oh...thanks.” He managed a smile and began to eat the blackberries. His eyes widened. Mabel suppressed a giggle; he looked just liked a spooked owl! “Mabel, these are delicious. Remind me to send you blackberry-picking again.”

Mabel smiled modestly. “Wellll, you know, I just thought that Dipper and I always liked to go pick raspberries and stuff back in Piedmont, so I figured that something like that would be hiding in Gravity Falls. And I found blackberries!” She gave him an endearing grin.

He reached out to ruffle her hair and gasped in pain. Coughing, he doubled over, dropping his handful of blackberries.

“Grunkle Ford!” The little girl rushed to his side. “What do I do? Are you gonna be okay?”

“I...think...the monster might have...gotten me a little deeper than I originally thought,” he groaned. “I’ll...I’ll live. In my coat, right side--no, my right, that’s it--second pocket from the top in the lining: tube of healer’s cream from Dimension 52...there you have it. Lift up my sweater--no, it’s okay, dear--lift up my sweater, see what you can do. Just a dab on each wound, not too much….Ahhh.” He sighed as the painkillers kicked in.

Mabel attempted to ignore the layers of old scars on Ford’s stomach long enough to finish spreading the cream on her grunkle’s current injuries, but she couldn’t help being just a  _ teeny  _ bit curious about some of them. Like, where’d he get that swirly one? And was that brand in the shape of Bill Cipher? Where did he get that really long one from?

She suppressed her questions while she worked. Instead, she asked him, “Grunkle Ford, are there more on your back?”

“Yes. From all different dimensions,” he said absently. “There was that one time in Dimension 938, where an angry mob caught me, thinking I was working  _ for  _ Bill...there was that one time I was flogged for high treason in Dimension 49E….”

“Grunkle Ford, I meant from this morning.” She couldn’t hide the horror in her voice.

“Oh. Oh, yes, of course.” He blinked owlishly at her. “I think there are a few, but most of them were on my front. I’ll turn around to let you see.”

He turned around, giving Mabel time to recover from the shock of what had happened to her grunkle when he was on the other side of that portal. Then she lifted up his sweater in the back and saw what he had been talking about. She clapped a hand over her mouth to try to stop the gasp that came out. “It’s that bad, is it?” he chuckled dryly.

“No, Grunkle Ford, your scars….how did you survive there?” She couldn’t help it.

Almost immediately he pulled his shirt down, turned around, wrapped his coat around him, and huddled into himself. God, he was stupid. Even Mabel, sweet Mabel, thought he was ugly. He’d known she would, but he’d convinced himself otherwise anyways.

“Grunkle Ford?”

“Mabel.” Guh, his voice came out so small and weak. “I...I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She sounded genuinely confused.

“I’m ugly.”

“What? No, you are not.” There it was. The stubborn voice that he’d heard her use with Dipper and Stanley. Nobody could resist that voice, because it never gave up. “Grunkle Ford, you are not ugly. You’re just...you’re...a story! I mean, how many other people can point to a spot on their tummy and say, ‘I got this from a tentacle demon which I punched in the face’? How many people can show off a swirly thing on their body and say, ‘Look what happened when I met these people’? Grunkle Ford, you’re not ugly. You’re just a human storybook, and those scars are your words.”

“Then why--?”

“Because I was sad. I was sad because you hurt so much and you didn’t have any of your family there to help you when you were hurt. I was sad because I realized that you probably had to deal with all of this all by yourself.”

He looked up, smiled, then stretched out his legs and puffed out his chest, like he usually did when confident. “Actually, most of the time I did have help. Her name was Tina. She was ten or so years younger than me, and she travelled with me for most of the thirty years I was trapped away from Earth.” His face turned sad. “She died in an explosion about six years before Stan brought me back.”

“Oh.” Mabel’s face fell a little. Then, “Hey, you still have those scratches.” She waved the tube of healing cream in his face. “We can’t forget about the problem at hand!”

“Of course not.” He turned his back to her again and let her lift his sweater and finish doctoring him up. When she was finished, he turned back around and gave her a small, awkward hug. “Thanks.”

“Awh, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel replied. “Anything for my family!”

Those were Ford’s new favorite words.  _ Anything for my family. _

“Come on, we have brothers to save!” Mabel cried, dragging Ford to his feet. “Come, Waddles. Lead the way, Author!  _ Onwards, Aoshima!”  _ she screeched, and they were off once again.

* * *

 

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	6. Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Ford still have half the day left before dark, and there are more beasts to meet.  
> Dipper is steadily training, and Stan finds it hilarious to annoy his captor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple warnings for mild violence, but nothing crazy.

"Grunkle Ford?"

"Mmm?"

"What were the stars like on the other side of the portal?"

"Hmmm. They weren't like our stars, that's certain. At times, there weren't even stars at all; just great stretches of blue and green light in whatever color the sky was."

The pair tramped steadily through the pines, occasionally spotting some sort of supernatural or mythical creature. Ford would stop and take a note, and Mabel would try to pet it or make friends with it. Usually that ended with one or both of them running away screaming in terror. Usually just one of them. Usually that one was Ford.

After encountering an octoarborpus (which resulted in Ford carrying Mabel away, glasses askew, coat flapping, while Mabel sat on his shoulders and whooped with glee), Ford said, "I think...we'd better...try not to get distracted anymore."

"But Grunkle Ford. How will we ever get to make a team for us if we can't try to make friends first?"

"A team?"

"Yeah! We need a team. Just imagine: Ford 'n Mabel 'n the Critters! We'd be a band! Unstoppable ARMY." She looked up at him with a frown. "But first you've gotta stop freaking out and shooting the things I'm trying to talk to."

"Mabel...about that…." Ford had stopped listening and was staring with his "spooked owl" expression on his face.

"Grunkle Ford, not everything's out to get you." She looked around for an example and found one. "Like this guy!" She walked over to a giant, hulking, snarling beast lurking in the trees.

"Mabel, wait-!" He reached out a hand towards her.

"Hey, big fella!" Mabel said, waving. "I'm Mabel. I live with my Grunkles in the Mystery Shack. I'm trying to find my brother. Wanna be friends?"

The monster snarled and drooled.

"I'll take that as a yes," Mabel grinned.

To Ford's shock, Mabel proceeded to teach the creature how to make flower crowns. "What was your name again?" Mabel asked it.

"Gghhhuuuuuuaaaghhhh," the monster replied.

"That's...a nice name," Mabel replied. She turned and whispered to Ford, "I don't think he knows how to talk."

Ford decided to take this moment to, despite the imminent danger Mabel was probably in, to sketch a quick picture of the monster. It had a body similar to that of a Gremloblin, but more hunched and twisted. It was coated in a thick black fur that shone dully in the dappled sunlight. A glistening tusk protruded from the right side of its mouth.

"And...you're finished!" Mabel exclaimed. "That's how you make a flower crown."

The creature reached forward. Ford grabbed his gun. Mabel flinched.

"Ah! It's beautiful!" Mabel shrieked. She poked the daisy chain on her head. "Thank you," she gushed. Then she _hugged_ it.

Ford gaped.

"See, Grunkle Ford? Not everything is bad." Mabel walked over, holding the beast's claw. "Can I call you Frank?" she asked it.

It nodded once.

Ford's jaw probably hit the forest floor.

"Come, my merry men!" cried Mabel, and she scrambled onto "Frank's" shoulders. "Onwards!"

Author took off with a flurry of feathers from where it had perched on a tree branch and continued flying. Waddles oinked and nudged Ford's leg as if to say, "Come on!"

Ford picked his lower lip off the ground and looked down at the pig. "Is she always like this?"

Waddles oinked.

* * *

 

"Guh!" Grunkle Stan grunted as he was slammed into the wall once more. "Why me?" he muttered.

"Grunkle Stan-Agh!" Dipper shouted as he reached out for his uncle only to be grabbed by a thick tentacle and dragged back again. "No, no, I don't want to-!"

Despite his struggles and protests, he was flung into the pit. "Fight it and win," his captor barked. "You have been given a weapon."

Ever since Ford and Mabel had defeated two attacks from the enemy, their captor's character had changed dramatically, going from cool and chillingly evil to downright fearsome. His violent actions towards Stanley had increased to the point where Stan was covered in bruises and scrapes.

Now, just two days into their capture, Dipper was expected to fight a monster and win. "I can't...I'm not strong enough!" Dipper cried. His voice cracked twice.

"Do not worry. You will not die. We cannot afford to have you killed."

Dipper breathed out once, twice, and picked up the "weapon," which happened to be a wooden club studded with ancient fangs. He hefted the piece of wood and waited for his opponent.

A large, snarling bear-like creature crawled from the depths. It was covered with midnight-blue fur, with paws twice the size of Dipper's head and eyes that burned with blue fire. "Okay," Dipper muttered, "I just have to...to beat it upside the head a bit. With a piece of wood."

The beast lunged at Dipper, who screamed and closed his eyes but swung the club like a baseball bat.

_Crunch._

Dipper kept his eyes squeezed shut. "Am I dead?" he squeaked.

Apparently not. Cautiously he opened one eye. In front of him on the ground lay the monster, who breathed heavily but was knocked out cold. "Congratulationssss," his captor hissed, his mood apparently improved. "You have managed to defeat my pet...for nowwwwwww."

"F-for now?"

"Since it is still alive, you will fight it until you can kill it."

Dipper opened his mouth to protest.

"But not today."

Dipper exhaled in relief.

"You may...have a rest." The kidnapper seemed almost...pleased with him.

"Thank you," Dipper said carefully.

One of the tentacled beasts pulled the boy from the pit and set him next to Stan. "Grunkle Stan, are you okay?"

Stan coughed. "Fine, kiddo. Good job for you. Almost didn't think you'd make it out alive."

"Gee, thanks," the kid replied sarcastically.

* * *

 

Ford remained distrustful towards Frank. Mabel, on the other hand, adored the monster. She chattered endlessly to it, for some reason feeling it appropriate to tell her entire life story to the thing. Ford had the decency to remain silent; he was not about to make Mabel sad again. Seeing the girl upset almost physically pained him.

But still, there was something about "Frank"...

Ford's gut suddenly twisted. He knew something was about to go wrong. He didn't know how, or what was going to happen, but it was going to be bad.

"Mabel-!"

"Frank" straightened up as Ford shouted Mabel's name. He wasn't hunched and twisted after all-in fact, he just kept stretching, thinning, growing….Suddenly, he was as huge as the pine trees he stood between, and as thin, too. Its arms were thin and spindly, ending in huge padded hands with long yellow claws. Its legs were the same. Its head was much too large and round for the rest of its body.

"Mabel!" Ford shouted again, and lunged forward to catch the girl as she fell. The momentum knocked him flat on his rear and pushed all the air from his lungs with an "Oof!"

"No, Frank," Mabel yelled, "we're friends!"

"We've been tricked," Ford gasped. "Step back. Get Waddles and Author and run!"

"Grunkle Ford, just what makes you think we're just gonna leave you here? We can't find a cure for Dipper on our own!"

"Just-go! I'll catch up!"

Mabel stared at him for a long moment, then nodded, her eyes squeezed shut to prevent the tears from escaping, and she ran.

* * *

 

Ford stood with his feet apart for stability, both hands holding firmly onto the gun he pointed up at the creature. "You tricked me," he shouted, "you tricked Mabel, and you just stepped across a line you shouldn't have touched in the first place."

The monster gazed down at the man, eyes meeting: black to brown. Then, "Gggguuuuuuuuaaaahhhh," it growled, and swung a large hand down at Ford.

Ford fired his gun and dove out of the way, rolling smoothly under the giant limb. The beam made a direct hit on the creature's shoulder and disabled that arm. Ford then shot at the knee and the creature wobbled. "Do your worst!" Ford cried.

Blood the color of a sapphire oozed thickly from the steaming wounds as it swung a hand once again at Ford. However, it lost its balance and fell to the weaker side, leaving Ford with a clean target. He shot at the monster's abdomen and created a large hole. Then two. He fired over and over again until the monster's life finally gave out and it finally gave one last groan and fell.

Ford once again found himself standing, panting, in front of the corpse of a monster with a gun in his hand. However, he had sustained only minor bruisings this time and was fully functional. No need for Mabel to worry about him this time.

Ford smiled proudly and, without a backwards glance, hurried to catch up with Mabel.

She wasn't that far ahead of him-the combat had only taken a half hour-so he found her in no time. Mabel had just travelled in a straight line and left a path of glitter for him to follow.

When he found her, he picked her up and gave her a quick hug. "I did it," he grinned.

"Yes!" the girl cried. "Grunkle Ford, I knew you could do it!"

"Done it before and will do it again."

Then Mabel surprised him by taking his hand in hers. "Come on. We've gotta find Dipper and Grunkle Stan."

He smiled down at her, affection welling up in his heart. "Alright," he replied.

The pair forged ahead, hand in hand, through the forest to rescue their family. After all, they were Pines. Pines stuck together until the very end.

* * *

"Grunkle Stan, look!" Dipper pointed to the glassy-surfaced stone, which had lit up with an image of Mabel, Ford, Waddles, and...something else? "What's that?"

"I have no idea." The old man shook his head.

"Do you think Mabel's safe?"

"No." Stan shook his head again. "That thing looks-oh, no."

"That thing" had just begun to straighten up. As Dipper and Stan watched the events unfold, their eyes widened in horror, then shock, then glee. "Yes! Grunkle Ford did it again!" Dipper cheered.

"NO!" Their kidnapper shrieked in rage. " _Why does it never work?_ How do they always defeat my beasts?"

"Simple," Stan said with a grin, "we're the Pines family. It's what we do."

There was a snarl of disgust. "The _Pines family._ Gah." It spat.

Dipper looked at Stan, who shrugged. "Oh, well," Stan sighed, "guess I'll just take a nap then."

His nephew stared at him. "A nap?"

"Yeah. I mean, he can't kill me, and there's no harm in just sleeping. 'Sides, I'm tired from all this 'kidnapping' nonsense. Might as well just close my eyes and do what old men do best: sleep."

Dipper couldn't help it: he burst out laughing.

"Shut up!" snarled their kidnapper.

"Doodle-y doo, taking a nap in a kidnapper's cave, waiting for a rescue party, doodle-y doo," Stan sang, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"GAH!"

**LQ WKHLU VHDUFK WKHB PXVW EH TXLFN, WKHB'YH BHW WR VHH WKH ELJJHVW WULFN, EXW KRZ ORQJ WLOO WKHB UHDOLCH ZKHUH WKHB ZLOO ILQG WKHLU SUHFLRXV SULCH?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks much for reading! Feel free to leave a review if you liked this. I'm open to constructive criticism as well.


	7. Memories and Faults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford shares some good memories with Mabel and relives some bad ones on his own. Also, a startling discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teeny tiny warning for blood and nightmares, I think.

Night couldn’t come fast enough for Mabel. She was bored. Grunkle Ford wouldn’t tell her much about his time in the portal, and of course she couldn’t blame him, but even Waddles couldn’t offer her much amusement at this point. She expressed how she felt to Ford, who replied with a simple, “Mm-hmm.”

So the two tramped through the endless woods, silent for the most part, accompanied by a pig and following a bat-owl. Mabel occasionally brought out a camera from a pocket hidden in her skirt (a feat that impressed Ford, considering how small the child’s clothing was) and snapped a photo of herself or Waddles.

The sun was almost set when Mabel asked Ford, “Can you tell me a bit about you? Like, stories about your life or something. Cause I know lots and lots about Grunkle Stan, but almost nothing about you! How can we be travelling buddies on an  _ epic quest  _ if we don’t even know each other?”

The girl had a point.

“I’ll tell you when we stop for the night,” he sighed.

“Grunkle Ford,  _ do it for my sanity, _ ” she said, staring at him with wide eyes and clutching at his coat.

“Mabel, you’re going to have to wait. Most of this won’t be easy for me to just casually speak about. Listen to me.” He looked straight ahead and continued walking, though more stiffly than usual.

She frowned, but nodded.

* * *

 

It wasn’t often that Stanley Pines was afraid. Too many things had happened in his life for him to be  _ afraid. _ However, when he saw his nephew being pitted against hideous monsters, when he knew that the twelve-year-old was going to perform some deadly feat, when he understood the consequences that would follow if Ford didn’t arrive in time to save them...he was absolutely terrified. If there was one thing Stan couldn’t stand, it was knowing his family was in danger and not being able to do anything about it.

Stan had always been there for his family: his brother, when they were young and Ford felt self-conscious about his hands; Mabel, when Pacifica really got her down; Dipper, when the world fought him and he needed to know how to fight back. Now, he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t give his awkward words of comfort. He couldn’t hug or hold the children, couldn’t punch whatever threatened them, couldn’t tell Ford his jokes and make him laugh and forget what people said about his extra fingers. All he could do was lean his bruised body against a rough stone wall and watch as some monstrous person tormented everyone he loved.

Even though nobody was watching him, even though all eyes were trained on the panting, bloody child in a pit in a cave, Stan hid his tears. After all he’d been through, one thing he’d managed to teach himself was how not to cry. He’d always been the strong one, and he wanted to keep it that way.

* * *

 

“It’s getting really dark, Grunkle Ford. Don’t you think we should stop soon?”

He paused.

“Grunkle Ford...are you trying to stall so you don’t have to talk to me?”

His hands clenched at his sides.

“Grunkle Ford, please. Besides…” She yawned. “I’m getting a little sleepy.”

He seemed to deflate. His hands unclenched, his stiff back bent, his shoulders sagged, his head bowed. “Mabel...I don’t want to talk about these things. Reminiscing is one of the few things I have a problem with.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ford sat down and leaned his back against a tree. He patted the ground next to him but didn’t look at her when she joined him, instead staring up at the myriad of stars. “A lot of my past hurts me. I...well, I get sad. And sometimes that sadness can manifest itself in a lot of different ways.”

“You don’t have to talk about all that scary stuff in the portal, Grunkle Ford.” She snuggled up to his side, causing him to finally look down at her with a bewildered expression. “I just wanna hear about some of the things you used to do. You know, with Grunkle Stan. When you were kids.”

She felt him relax against her. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you a little bit about Stan and me as kids,” he said quietly. “One of the first things I remember is Stan pickpocketing someone at a carnival.

“We were barely five years old, and Stan and I were at a carnival at the boardwalk by the beach where we used to live. There was a gigantic ferris wheel, and lots of games, and cotton candy vendors. I’d just been through a pretty awful ordeal with some bullies, and Stan wanted to treat me to a game and buy me a stuffed animal. He dragged me over to a stand where you had to throw a ball at a stack of cans to win a prize, and the biggest prize was this giant bear in a lab coat. He tried so many times to win that bear, but he ran out of money. I told him it was fine, but he was relentless. Before I knew it, he’d run out into the crowd. When he came back, he had a huge wad of bills. Both the man at the stand and I were astonished, but Stan didn’t give up. He did win that prize for me.” Ford chuckled.

Mabel giggled. “Can you play any instruments with your six fingers?”

“I used to be pretty good at the piano,” he reminisced. “I also learned how to play the guitar in college.” He smiled at the stars, remembering Fiddleford and his hippy friends sitting around a campfire on a starry night, listening and laughing as Ford strummed a guitar and sang.

“Wish you had a guitar with you now,” Mabel said, “we could sing together!”

He laughed. “Maybe when this is all done, I can show you my hidden music room in the house.”

“You have a music room?” she gasped.

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking once again at the stars.

He continued sharing some of his childhood memories with the little girl until he stopped to ask her something and realized that she was fast asleep snuggled close to his side. Ford hesitated, then drew her closer and closed his eyes, allowing himself to lose his paranoia and just relax. Before he knew it he was asleep.

It was the first night since Stan was kicked out of the house that Ford didn’t suffer from a nightmare.

* * *

_“Tina!”_ _Ford stood on the edge of a desolate desert landscape of another dimension. “Tina, come on! You can’t save him! Follow me!”_

_ The blonde girl sat cradling a boy in her arms, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t just leave him!” she screamed. _

_ “You have to! I’m...I’m sorry, Tina.” _

_ The girl stared down at the child’s face, then hugged it close, kissed its cold forehead, and laid the bloody thing back down on the hard ground. “Bill’s going to be here soon,” she said in a broken voice. “We’re lucky we killed those things when we could.” _

_ Ford reached out a hand and she took it, and together the pair walked off across the desert. _

Ford shook away the memories once again. Tina wasn’t coming back.

“Grunkle Ford, you’re going so slow!” Mabel was walking way ahead, her pig at her heels and the bat-owl flapping awkwardly to try and stay ahead of the child’s fast pace.

He sighed and walked more quickly to catch up. “Mabel, keep in mind...I’m not as young as I was when I wrote those journals. And I’m certainly not as spry as you.”

She giggled. “Just come on!”

_ I wish I was as enthusiastic as she,  _ he thought, smiling softly at the skipping girl.  _ I’ll have to make sure to spend more time with…. _

_ TRUST NO ONE. _

He gasped, stumbled, clutched at his head.  _ I can’t. I can’t trust anyone. Bill’s out there, anyone could be...anything could...anyone...trust no one. Not even this girl. _

His mind went back to the rift. He really should show it to Mabel.

_ No, she’s the kind of person who can’t keep her mouth closed. She’d probably tell the whole world. I can’t trust her with something that dangerous. Besides, what if she got hurt? I’d never forgive myself. _

_ <<The smell of burning flesh, the agonized scream of his own twin. “Some brother you turned out to be.”>> _

“Grunkle Ford! Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes. He was kneeling on the ground, clutching at his head, sweating heavily. He was short of breath, and his vision was swimming.  _ Guh.  _ He closed his eyes again. Panic attacks were all too familiar to him. Ford concentrated on breathing in slowly through his nose and out through his mouth. After a few moments, his breathing stabilized and he sat up. “Yeah. I should be fine now.” He nodded at her. “We should keep going.”

“Grunkle Ford, I think we should stop and--”

“I said, we’re going to keep going.”

Mabel opened her mouth, then closed it at the look on her uncle’s face.

The two traveled quietly for a long time, stopping only when Author needed a rest. During that brief break, Ford tugged almost habitually at his extra finger on his left hand, paced back and forth, and occasionally pulled at the tufts of fluffy hair sticking up. Mabel wanted to say something, but instead just frowned and looked at him with concern.

The rest of the day, surprisingly passed much the same way. It was almost terrifying to Mabel and Ford how eventless their journey had become. It put Ford on edge. He did  _ not  _ like this.

When night finally fell, Mabel again curled up against Ford and fell almost immediately to sleep, leaving him awake, scared, paranoid, and alone. Sleep did not come easily to him that night.

* * *

Stanley was pretty sure he was hallucinating, now. How long had it been since he’d had a drink of water? It was yesterday at the carnival, right? He needed to go home and ask Ma for a glass of water, but he couldn’t leave Ford all alone at the carnival by himself.

Why was Ford running in wide circles around him? Why did the crowds just seem to part in the wake of his odd activity?

Stanley’s hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

He watched as Ford tripped and fell and cried out in a voice that wasn’t  _ quite  _ his. “Ford!” Stanley shouted, and tried to run to his twin’s aid like he always did. He knew Ford would be crying.

But something was holding him back. Something strong and thick had grabbed him around the waist and held him tight, leaving him to watch as his brother picked himself up and kept running...why did he keep running?

Stanley was slammed back against a wall. His vision swam. As the world wobbled into nothing, he suddenly realized:  _ That’s not Ford. Dipper! _

* * *

 

_ His hand outstretched, he screamed Mabel’s name as she was dragged away by a huge tentacled beast. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t do anything except yell. It was his fault. Of course it was his fault. He let her go off alone. He let her walk ahead. He didn’t protect her well enough. The little girl was crying, her eyes pleading. He couldn’t even tell her he was sorry. But she yelled his name over and over and-- _

“Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Ford!”

He jerked awake so fast he hit his head on a tree. “Mabel!” he gasped.

“I’m here, Grunkle Ford. You were having a nightmare again.” The little girl stood beside him, gazing with concern at his sweat-coated face.

“I’m...I’m okay now,” he panted, rubbing his eyes.

“I got us some more blackberries for breakfast...Grunkle Ford, why didn’t you pack food for us? We can’t live on blackberries forever!”

Ford shrugged. “Didn’t think about it,” he mumbled, grabbing at the berries.

When they had done eating, Mabel asked, “Doesn’t that weird journal have anything about what to eat?”

“We’re way past the line of where I’ve explored now,” he sighed. “The journal wouldn’t have anything.” He stood. “We’d better keep going. Come on.”

He began to walk through the trees, just behind Author.

“Grunkle Ford, are you sure you’re okay?” Mabel asked, stopping him for a moment.

He hesitated. Then, “Yeah. I’m absolutely fine, Mabel.” And he continued walking.

Mabel looked at Waddles. “I think I should start putting on my...Skepticals,” she muttered, making glasses with her fingers. Then she followed her Grunkle.

Ten minutes later and Mabel was struggling to keep up. Ford was walking at an incredibly fast pace, and even her energetic little legs couldn’t go that fast. “Grunkle Ford, wait up!”

“No, Mabel, we have to keep going. We can’t waste any time!”

She huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at the ground. It was lucky she did, or she would have stepped on: “A fairy! Grunkle Ford, look!”

The child was bouncing with excitement. Ford stopped and turned back, interested. “Ah,” he said, whipping out Journal 1, “it appears to be a common pine fairy. Normally these creatures are nocturnal, so it's rather odd for her to be out and awake during the day.” Ford had a pen out and was clicking it obsessively. “Although I think her left wing is damaged,” he added after some inspection.

“Grunkle Ford, you have to fix her.”

He opened his mouth to protest, to say that they had limited time, but then he looked at the little girl. Mistake. She gazed at him with gigantic glittering eyes, and his heart melted into a puddle of affection. Crap.

He sighed. “Fine.”

Mabel watched in fascination as his six-fingered hands worked nimbly to patch up the tiny creature using some of the healing cream and other things she didn’t recognize.

“Do you think that if Dipper were here instead of me he would have stopped to help the fairy?” Mabel asked. The words came out slowly and tentatively, like she was afraid she would hurt Ford.

He didn’t pause in his work. “No, I don’t think he would have. I don’t even think he would have seen her.” He chuckled. “I think we’d be nearly there--wherever that is--if Dipper were here instead of you.”

“Oh. Is...is that a bad thing?”

Ford shook his head. “No, it’s not. Dipper likes to rush through things, especially when he’s excited. He wouldn’t slow down, and he panics a lot. Dipper acts like there’s no time, ever, and doesn’t pause to think about what else is going on in the world. I doubt he’d have let me discover so many new creatures if you’d been captured instead.”

He resisted saying,  _ He’s a lot like me. _

Mabel grinned at him. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.” She hugged him awkwardly, nearly making him slam a hand down onto the poor fairy.

“Careful!” he exclaimed.

“Oops,” she said sheepishly.

Ford leaned down and murmured something to the tiny girl, who sat up shakily and, with a hand to her tiny green temple, looked up at the two humans crowding her. She opened her mouth and a crazy jumble of noise poured out. Ford quickly flipped through a journal and read something silently before leaning back down and replying.

Mabel watched in utter confusion. The pair was conversing in a language Mabel had never heard before, and she felt a little sad that she wasn’t able to talk to the fairy.

Suddenly, Ford stiffened. His head swung to look at Mabel, and she saw the fear in his eyes. “Mabel, she knows something.”

“What? What?”

He took a deep, shuddering, exhausted breath. “Mabel, we’ve been...we’ve been tricked. We’ve been travelling in the wrong direction the entire time.” And his head fell into his hands.

* * *

 

**WKHB'YH ILQDOOB ILJXUHG RXW ZKDW'V ZURQJ, EXW WKH MRXUQHB EDFN ZLOO WDNH WRR ORQJ. FDQ WKHB GRXEOH EDFN EHIRUH WKHLU WZLQV DUULYH XSRQ GHDWK'V GRRU?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's only through lots of views and reviews that I'm motivated to keep writing, so please share this story with your friends! I would be extremely grateful, you guys are always so great.


	8. In the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help arrives for Mabel and Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, no, it's chapter 8! Right? Isn't that what you're all thinking? Hey, readers, why aren't you leaving kudos? Chop, chop, huh?  
> Anyway. No warnings on this chapter except for a brief panic attack at the beginning. A few of the tags listed above come into effect here. And sorry for the wait, the holidays just kinda crept up on me!

“What?” Mabel exclaimed, her face screwing up in disbelief. “We’ve been walking for three days only to find out that we’ve been going the  _ wrong way?”  _ She began to panic, chewing on her hair and muttering, “We don’t have enough time to turn back now. Dipper’s gonna die. Grunkle Stan’s gonna die.”

The voice, meanwhile, was back in Ford’s head:  _ TRUST NO ONE. TRUST NO ONE. TRUST NO ONE. You can’t trust the fairy. You can’t trust the owl. You can’t trust the girl. Look around you, Stanford. Anything and anyone here could turn on you at any moment. You have no chance. No chance...no chance…. _

“NO!” Ford yelled. “I will not listen to you any longer! I will find my brother and my nephew and they will be safe!  _ I don’t need you!” _

Panting, he allowed his shoulders to relax. He slouched in relief, and realized that Mabel was staring at him. “Um...Grunkle Ford?”

“I’m sorry, Mabel,” he sighed. “I’m not myself right now.”

“Psh, obviously,” she grinned. “Grunkle Ford, I totally get it. You’re worried about your brother; I am, too. But we’ll get them back. I promise.” She nodded sincerely.

He smiled rather weakly at Mabel. “Whatever you say,” he replied.

* * *

“Grunkle Stan!”

Stan heard the boy’s hilarious puberty voice through the fog in his mind and managed to open his eyes. “Dipper,” he mumbled.

“Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Stan, are you okay?”

“‘M fine, Dipper,” Stan grumbled, struggling to sit up.

“I think you’re dehydrated. Why haven’t you been drinking?”

“‘Coz they forgot about me,” Stan said bluntly. “Been so busy preparing you for your ‘task’ that they’ve forgotten about old Grunkle Stan.”

Dipper stood and turned around. Stan detected the tremble in the boy’s voice as he said, “Ah, sir? Could my uncle please have some water?”

There was an answering growl. Neither human was certain what it meant.

But Stan was led to a pool of water and told, “You may drink here when you are thirsty.”

As Stan drank, Dipper thought about Ford and Mabel.  _ I hope they're able to find us. _

* * *

“Grunkle Ford, you’ve been sitting there for a long time. I thought your smart brain was able to think of plans really easily.”

“Agh...Mabel, I’m sorry, I’m trying to find a way out of this.”

“We could...find a creature out here that could help us,” Mabel suggested hesitantly at the look of pained frustration on Ford’s face.

“Mmmm, yes, why didn’t I think of that?” he muttered, and began flipping through journal number 2. “Hm. Leprecorn….” he shuddered. “Unicorns...nope. Oooh! I think I’ve got one. They should be only a day’s walk from here, too.”

“An entire  _ day? _ ” Mabel cried. “Grunkle Ford, do we even have time for--?”

“Mabel, these people can cut our trip down drastically,” Ford interrupted.

“Who--?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Come on.”

She walked beside him, Waddles close to her side, and Author left behind to deal with the fairy, who’d seemed very angry when she’d learned what the bat-owl had done. “So who are we gonna go see?”

“The centaurs.”

“Woah-woah-woah. What?”

“The centaurs live deep in the forest, away from most human contact. I was lucky enough to become friends with them after I saved one of their brethren. Anyway, they should be able to give us a lift and cut down on our time a little bit.” He paused. “If we ask nicely.”

“How nicely do we have to ask? Cause I can ask pretty nicely,” Mabel grinned.

“You let me do the talking,” he said, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

_ “Fidds, let me handle this, I don’t want you getting hurt.” But while Ford was taking notes on the Gremloblin, Fiddleford was attacked. _

_ “Fiddleford, don’t drink that, I don’t want you getting hurt.” He drank it anyway. Luckily, the damage wasn’t lasting…. _

_ “Be careful,” Ford said. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” Fiddleford nodded. However, he was still sucked into the portal, head-first. _

Mabel nodded a little dejectedly.

“Listen, Mabel.” He stopped and knelt next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know what I’m doing. People have gotten hurt around me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Trust me.”

Her wide eyes blinked at him. “Okay, Grunkle Ford.”  _ A red button. A whirling portal. So much fear….Tears in her eyes. Floating in space.  _ “I trust you.”

* * *

The rest of the day was spent with Ford telling Mabel about his adventures in the woods of Gravity Falls. How he’d met the centaurs, his struggles with the unicorns, his first introduction to the gnomes. Mabel, in turn, described some of the things she and Dipper had come across that summer. She talked about how the gnomes kidnapped her, how she’d kissed a merman, that time Grunkle Stan had punched a pterodactyl in the face, that other time when Grunkle Stan had defeated a horde of the undead with only brass knuckles, a baseball bat, and some good karaoke music.

Ford was amazed. His brother had defeated a pterodactyl?  And an entire horde of zombies? By himself?

“You sure got up to a lot of crazy things, didn’t you?” he chuckled.

“We’re always up to something!” she laughed.

He shook his head with a smile, but was silent. He was remembering two little boys who gave the same answer long, long ago.

* * *

When night fell, Ford said, “We’ll sleep now, and first thing in the morning we’ll go to the centaurs’ glade.”

Mabel agreed with the idea and waited for Ford to sit and lean up against a tree before sitting beside him and snuggling up once again. They stared up at the stars for a long moment.

“Grunkle Ford?”

“Mmmm?”

“Can you sing for me?”

He smiled. “Alright.

_ “Take to the sky _

_ Open up your eyes and see _

_ How far you get in just one day. _

_ Take to the sea _

_ And open up your heart and see _

_ How far you get atop this place. _

_ And it’s a big old world we live in now _

_ And how mighty it can be….” _

She was asleep before he even reached the chorus. He just looked down at her with an affectionate smile and kept on singing, his mellow voice seeming to make the stars blush.

And so went the night.

* * *

He was awakened a little before dawn by a sharp crack of wood, followed by heavy, tramping footsteps. Ford glanced at the child sleeping beside him, then gently slid her onto the ground. She didn't stir. “Who’s there?” he said calmly to the trees, standing up.

When no reply came, he began to get anxious. No reply never meant anything good. “I’m warning you,” he said again, his voice threatening, “I’m armed.”

The being stepped out from behind a tree. Ford cried out as it charged at him, grabbed him, and took off. “Mabel!” he shouted as another one picked up the slowly waking child.

The pair was carried swiftly through the woods, the trees whipping past in a blur. Ford struggled to get out of the creature’s grip. “I’m a friend! A friend!” he yelled.

“Quiet, human,” the being snarled, “or we’ll kill the child.”

Ford quickly shut his mouth.

When they reached an open clearing, lit only by the waxing half-moon and a scattering of stars, their captors stopped and waited. After a moment of silence and stillness, their brethren stepped out from the shadows of the trees. “Riza, Snow, you have returned,” the low, mellifluous voice intoned from the centaur that stood first and foremost among his kind. “What trespassers do you bring to me today?”

“Chief Amon,” Ford’s captor said reverently, bowing low. “I bring two humans--an old man and a child.”

The chief of the centaurs was adorned with black and white paint, leather necklaces, and a headband to hold back long, flowing black locks. His man-like upper body was broad-shouldered, dark-skinned, and very muscular. His lower body, the horse’s body, was a deep, sleek black with powerful legs. “Let me see these humans.”

Ford and Mabel were set on the ground and shoved forward into the silvery moonlight. Amon studied Mabel, then Ford. “These humans are welcome here,” Amon said suddenly, not hiding the shock in his voice. “This is Stanford Filbrick Pines. He saved my life more than thirty years ago.”

“Stanford Filbrick Pines,” murmured the centaurs, all bowing low before Mabel and Ford.

“Grunkle Ford?” Mabel squeaked, looking up at the equally shocked Ford. “You never told me you saved the  _ chief.” _

* * *

Mabel was astounded. Her Grunkle had rescued the chief of the centaurs? The very beautiful, extremely  _ hot  _ chief of the centaurs? The dreamy, fierce-faced chief of the centaurs?

“Who is the child?” Amon demanded.

“This is Mabel Pines. She is my brother’s daughter’s daughter.”

“Your brother Stanley?”

“No, I have another brother. How do you know Stanley?”

“We had a few run-ins with him over the past thirty years.”

“Well, Mabel Pines, we are very pleased to meet you,” Amon smiled.

“Me, too,” she gasped.

Ford chuckled. Dipper had told him all about Mabel’s ongoing “boy-crazy” stage. “My lord Chief,” he said respectfully, “we have a request.”

As he explained why they were travelling through the woods, Amon’s face grew disbelieving, then horrified, then fierce. “I will help you, Stanford, to rescue your nephew and your brother. The task  _ must not  _ be completed.”

“Why? What is the task?”

“It would result in a portal being opened and millions of monsters pouring through. It would mean the end of the known world.”

Ford’s eyes widened. The opening of the portal could mean the return of Bill, as well as the deaths of Dipper and Stan.

“Could you take us where we need to go?” he asked.

“Alas,” Amon sighed, “even the centaurs have our boundaries. However,” he said, hushing Ford’s protest, “we can take you as far as you are able. It will cut back two days’ travel. I hope that is alright with you?”

“Is it?” Ford cried. “That gives us just enough time! Please, let’s go now!”

The centaur smiled. “Certainly. Mabel Pines, would you like me to carry you there?”

“Would I?” Mabel shrieked, and, with some help from Amon, clambered onto his broad, muscular back.

Ford grinned and swung himself onto the back of the one who had taken him to the clearing. “Let us be off,” Amon said, and they rode out into the shadows of the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the end of another chapter! By the way, your reviews and favorites and stuff all mean a lot to me, guys. The story would probably be abandoned or on a long hiatus due to boredom or writer's block if not for the huge motivation you all have been supplying. So thank you all so much, and I'm sorry for the long wait.
> 
> Song used was "Just One Day" by The Mighty Oaks. I do not own the song!


	9. One Week Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One week has passed. Amon explains how Ford saved his life, and the first stage of Dipper's preparation is finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooly crap guys, I'm so sorry for the three-month gap! I got caught up in family issues and other projects and- I'll skip the excuses and give you the darn chapter. And, since I never gave you a cipher at the end of chapter 8, you get an extra-long cipher at the end of this chapter! Updates might still be irregular but there won't be as big of a gap.

“Chief Amon,” Mabel said, “how did Grunkle Ford save your life?”

The pine trees whipped past the two humans and their part-horse mounts. Above them, the moon still shone, but its light was dimming as the first hints of pink were seen on the edges of the sky. The sleek-sided, long-haired, dark-skinned centaur’s torso was leaned forward slightly as he galloped recklessly through the forest.

At Mabel’s question, his head tilted slightly. “I recall the day well,” he began.

* * *

Ford was wandering the woods with his journal in his hand and a pen stuck behind his ear, searching for new anomalies or weird creatures. Night was falling and he was going to head back to his house soon--Bill wanted to speak with him as soon as possible. He was just about to turn back and head home for the evening when he heard shouts and loud noises.

The scientist, naturally curious, walked quickly towards the sounds of struggle to see one centaur pinning another down. The one on the ground had once been lavishly decorated, but his tangled hair and smeared paint spoke of intense grappling. A knife was held to his throat by a much less richly decorated centaur, whose skin was pale and hair was blonde.

“Agh...Garo...you must not do this….” choked the losing centaur.

“I want to be chief,” snarled the blonde one. “If I must steal it from you before waiting for you to die on your own, so be it.”

“My...my son...would never--”

“I AM NOT YOUR SON.” The pale-skinned centaur was quivering with rage. “I’ve known it since I was old enough to understand--I can’t get my complexion from yours.” He grinned wickedly down at the dark centaur. “But I can get your title. Sleep tight,  _ Father, _ ” he spat, “for all eternity.”

“Wait!”

Two dark, fierce pairs of eyes swiftly turned to Ford. “A human!” the pale centaur cried. “I will kill you next.”

“No, wait,” Ford repeated, “you can’t kill him.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s...it’s not right.” Ford glanced at the dark centaur. “He’s not your father, I gathered as much. But did he raise you like he was?” At this, the chief looked up at his adopted child pleadingly. “Did he treat you like his son? Did he raise you from a child? Were you...were you l-loved?” Ford continued, trying to keep the images of his own home life from racing back and shaking his voice.

The pale-skinned centaur’s hand shook.

“Garo,” the dark centaur whispered. “My son.”

Garo’s resolve crumbled and silver tears spilled from his eyes. “I am sorry, Father,” he moaned.

The chief smiled gently. “Do not be. I know how adopted children are. They rebel before turning back to their parents when they realize how much they are loved.” He reached out his muscular arms to his child and embraced him warmly.

* * *

“Wow,” Mabel gasped. “So amazing. Grunkle Ford, you’re good at pulling families together, you know that?”

Ford’s eyes were downcast.

“Grunkle Ford?” Mabel said worriedly.

He shook his head quickly and looked up at her, smiling weakly. “I’m fine, Mabel.”

“No, you’re not.” She ducked as a rather low branch passed worryingly close over her head. “You’re sad. But you should be happy! You saved a centaur! The chief! And you’re travelling with only the happiest person in the world, me, so some of that happiness should rub off onto you!”

Ford shook his head. “I’m very worried, Mabel.”

“Don’t be! They’ll be fine. Remember, Grunkle Stan defeated zombies and a pterodactyl and stuff like that. He learned physics and code-breaking and stuff for thirty years to bring you back! And Dipper can handle himself, too, if he tries hard enough.” She giggled. “Don’t be scared! We’re Pines.”

He gave her a genuine smile, which then turned into a frown, then a look of horror. “Mabel,” he said carefully, “where’s Waddles?”

* * *

Waddles the pig snuffled happily, rooting through the leaves for something tasty to eat. He didn’t care much about what was happening around him, until he suddenly realized that something was off. When he trotted back to where She had been sleeping with Him, he realized that They were gone! Where were They?

He gave a terrified squeal and began trying to find Her scent--but since he didn’t have the best nose of any pig, he couldn’t. Frightened and alone in the woods, he sat down and stared at the tree where They had been sleeping.

A nervous, fluttery, squeaky hoot caught the pig’s attention. Looking up, he saw that awful bat-owl that had made Them so angry yesterday. He gave an indignant  _ oink _ and stood up, telling the bat-owl to go away.

Author hooted again. It was sorry? It hadn’t known? Waddles was confused. He oinked back quizzically.

The bat-owl explained quickly that it had been following instructions previously given to it and it hadn’t known it would take Them in the wrong direction.

Waddles narrowed his eyes. The bat-owl couldn’t be trusted.

Author hooted softly, and Waddles understood.

Whatever They cared about, Waddles should care about. And Author cared about it, too.

So with Author flying above and Waddles trotting below, the pair set off together to find their friends.

* * *

Mabel was crying desperately while she rode, her face tucked into the collar of her sweater. She sobbed something about predators and completely broke down.

Ford hated seeing the girl cry, but the most important thing at the moment was finding Dipper and Stan. They couldn’t stop. There was absolutely no time.

Being the awkward old man he was, he couldn’t word this in a sensitive way.

So they continued to travel.

A day passed, their ride only interrupted twice for food and drink. The pair slept fitfully on the centaurs’ backs when night fell, and when morning came the routine repeated.

On the third night of travel, when the moon was nearly at the center of the sky, the centaurs stopped. “We cannot go any farther,” Amon explained.

“Before you leave, we need to know everything possible about the being who captured our family,” Ford asked. “Please,” he added as an afterthought.

Amon’s expression darkened. “He is a dark creature, to be sure. His ancestors are creatures from Hell.”

“Is he...is he Bill? Bill Cipher?”

The centaur’s face, if possible, grew darker. “He is not quite that...insane. Unlike that dream demon, his physical form is in this dimension. He will do anything to dominate the earth--even if it means the annihilation of every sentient being.”

Ford shuddered. “How do we stop him?”

“There is only one way--you must wait until the portal opens and push him in. Then, you must recite this incantation:

_ “ _ _ Close, O Veni, _ _   
_ _ Supermundanae ostium _ _   
_ _ Et non malum detraheret mundi _ _   
_ __ Excipiant et in suo nucleo.”

“Thank you,” Ford sighed, bowing respectfully. Amon inclined his head in return and turned to leave.

“Wait! Do you know where we can find a cure for Dipper?” Mabel asked.

“A cure?”

“Yeah. Dipper said he’s gonna be really drained, and he could die.” Mabel shuddered. “I don’t want my bro-bro to die. So once we shove this guy into his portal and close it up after him, how are we gonna save Dip?”

Amon looked thoughtful. “That is something I do not know. You must ask the fairies.” Then he and his companion turned and cantered away.

“Well,” Mabel said chipperly, “that went well.”

Ford nodded, though it was clear he wasn’t listening. “We still have a long ways to go,” he murmured.

Mabel slipped her hand into his. “We’ll be fine,” she whispered. “And they’ll be fine.”

And they walked off into the silver-strewn trees once more.  _ One week down, one to go. _

* * *

Stan was humming tunelessly to himself from his spot against the wall and watching Dipper nap. The boy looked so vulnerable, and kinda cute. And so much like his brother….

Dipper was prodded sharply by a tentacled beast and he jerked awake with a gasp. The bags under his eyes indicated little rest. “What?”

“The firsssst stage isssss compleeeeeeete,” hissed his captor. “Nowww to strengthen your miiiind.”

“H-h-how are you g-gonna do that?” Dipper stammered.

“Simpllllle.” Tentacles began to wind themselves up Stan’s body. “Heeee’s going to suffer, and youuuuu’re going to watch.” 

The voice held a certain malicious glee that made Stan’s heart stop. “W-what are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing that will kill you….as long as you don’t try to get away.”

As his body was encased in the slimy appendages, he heard Dipper’s horrified voice shouting his name.

Then, darkness.

* * *

 

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	10. Strength of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper isn't sure what is real, and Ford and Mabel go to visit the fairies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey check it out, it's another chapter! No warnings apply, just enjoy the thing.

"Ugh, Poindexter," Stan muttered, rubbing his head and sitting up groggily. "Don't know why you actually _enjoy_ this kinda thing."

"Grunkle Stan!" Dipper's frightened voice woke him up the rest of the way.

"Eh? What? What's happening?"

"You...don't remember?"

"Remember what?" His back and shoulders cracked painfully as he stretched. "Oh, everything hurts…."

Dipper was staring somewhat meaningfully at Stan. "Um...what just happened to you...to us."

Now that he mentioned it, things seemed to ache more than normal. And Dipper was very wild-eyed. "Ah...you're gonna have to remind me, kid," he said awkwardly.

"The guy who kidnapped us tried to strengthen my mind. And you got hurt. Really bad."

"Kid, do you see anything beyond bruises on this old man?" Stan grinned. "I'm fine. He must have been using a dream or something on ya."

Dipper flopped back on the floor of the caverns. Staring at the ceiling, he sighed, "I don't even know what's real anymore."

Stan nodded. "I've felt that way for a long time, kiddo."

* * *

"Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Ford! We get to meet the fairies!" Mabel was bouncing and squealing and tugging at his rather tattered green sweater. "Ohmygosh I have sooooo many things I wanna say to them!"

Ford smiled. "The fairies are a skittish bunch, and don't even speak our language. You're going to have to let me do the talking again, Mabel."

Her excited face instantly fell. "Oh. Well maybe you can tell them what I'm saying?"

Ford shrugged. "Maybe."

The silence between them was tense. Then, "Grunkle Ford, look at the sunrise!"

His eyes widened and his mouth opened in amazement. The sunrise was glorious, all pinks and lavenders and pale blues and oranges, and the pine trees silhouetted against the shimmering orange sun gave it an otherworldly look.

No, it wasn't otherworldly. The sunrises he'd seen on the other side of the portal had been otherworldly. This was earth. This was his home, and this was just...worldly. And Ford had never, ever loved earth so much.

He looked down at his small companion and saw her eyes were filled with just as much wonder. "Heh," he laughed softly, "even the sunrises in Dimension 52 weren't this...amazing."

"What did the sunrises there look like?"

"Well...they were...blue. Mostly blue. Sometimes the sky would get these red-and-yellow stripes...but it never looked like a watercoloring," he finished.

And they stood there, staring at the sky, until Ford said in a businesslike voice, "Well, those fairies aren't going to find themselves."

Once again, they were off.

* * *

Meanwhile, Waddles and Author were having the time of their lives. Neither knew where they were going, but they figured they'd catch up to their humans at some point. So they frolicked and hooted and squealed in the pine needles, and generally just having fun. Waddles assumed that She was fine, because She was with Him. They'd be just fine.

Unless, of course, they weren't.

Waddles may have been a pig, but he wasn't entirely stupid. He understood that crazy cuckoo-bananas things were going on, and that She was upset about something. Something big was going on. For example, the Other Halves weren't there. That had clued Waddles in right away. He figured that he should probably not waste too much time, in case She needed some help.

Author had less of an idea of what was going on, but understood enough that he could be just as concerned as Waddles about the two humans. Something wrong was happening, and he had been very close to the center of the Wrong Thing. But She had shown real love for him, and he wanted to repay it. She'd even given him a name! He couldn't just leave Her to whatever Wrong Thing was going to happen.

Both creatures knew that Something Bad was going to Happen, and it was going to be soon. Sooner than they would have liked to admit.

* * *

Dipper was...well, he was very confused. And he was hurt, and he was scared. He didn't know what was real and what was in his mind, but it had probably been hours since the mental "strengthening" began. On and off went the hallucinations. Sometimes Stan was lying in a dark pool of something horrid, sometimes he was electrocuted and screaming, sometimes he was slowly burning, sometimes...Dipper couldn't even describe what his mind was conjuring up.

But always, always, it had the same ending, and always, always, Dipper would wake up and check to make sure his uncle was alive.

It was worse every time. And every time Dipper would wake up, sweating, screaming, sometimes sobbing, and his Grunkle would be sitting calmly against the wall or getting a drink or (very occasionally) leaning over him with a worried grimace.

The boy lost all track of time. He wasn't sure what was night, what was day. He didn't feel hunger or thirst. All he felt was fear, and a sinking feeling that everything was not going to be alright. Ford and Mabel were never going to find them. Dipper was as good as dead, and he knew it.

* * *

 

"How much longer?" Mabel almost-whined. "My feet are telling me that walking isn't good anymore. Maybe I should've put on sneakers instead."

Ford glanced at his journal. "It shouldn't be too much farther," he said. "The fairy nests are normally near creeks or rivers, and there should be a body of water not too far from where we are now. I'm looking out, of course. Don't want to step on any more of the little things, do we?" He chuckled.

Mabel grimaced. "Eugh, no."

They'd been walking all day, and Mabel was starting to get very tired. She hadn't slept well in over three days, and it was starting to take its toll.

Ford didn't worry much about this-after all, he'd gone without sleep for a week when he was building the portal-until she'd started seriously lagging. He'd shaken his head quickly when she began to slow, convincing himself that she'd be fine.

Then, just now, she stumbled and almost fell. "Mabel," he gasped, and threw an arm out in front of her.

"Ugh, Grunkle Ford...I'm really tired...carry me?" She held out her arms like a small child.

" _Stanford, I'm exhausted. Could you...carry me?"_

" _Of course, Tina."_

He smiled. "Of course, Mabel." He scooped up his niece and cradled her carefully in the crook of his left arm. "Let's keep going now, okay?"

"Mmm…" she mumbled, but she was already slipping into sleep.

Shifting her gently in his arm so he could carry her without dropping her, his smile deepened and he continued on in his gentle silence through the sweet-smelling woods as the sun began to set.

* * *

The fragrance of the woods grew ever stronger the deeper he ventured and the darker it became. He knew he was getting close.

Then, a small, darting light came from high in one of the trees, blue in color, hesitantly hovering above Ford's grey head before swooping down and resting in his hair. He startled, but tried to ignore the tiny creature, continuing to venture deeper into the forest. More tiny sparks began to swirl around him, creating a rainbow vortex with a five-foot diameter that moved with him as he walked. Some of the miniature girls grew curious and ventured in to play with Mabel's hair or feel her sweater. One or two fairies were nesting in Ford's hair.

And suddenly, he was in a moonlit glade. The stars were glittering in the violet-black sky, and a thin creek bubbled down past one side. Millions of tiny, colorful, dancing lights swirled about in the grassy clearing. Still cradling Mabel, he straightened his back, puffed out his chest, and spoke in the language of the fairies: "I am Stanford Pines. I am here on a quest to rescue two of my family members and save Gravity Falls and the world from the emergence of a horrifying race. They are going to open up a portal and send through Hellish creatures. My nephew will be the one to open the portal, and we need a cure that will save him from the certain death that his task entails. If we could have the assistance of the fairies, you will be richly repaid."

A golden fairy ascended to his eye-level. "What you seek cannot be easily given," she told him. "We will ask for a great favor in return."

"I will give anything."

A tiny eyebrow raised. "Anything?"

Ford nodded once. Mabel shifted groggily in his arms.

"Would you give us the child?"

Ford's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped Mabel. "W-what? No! I did not think-I did not think you meant a person. I cannot give you my family."

"Then we cannot help you."

"No-wait. We can give you…" Ford racked his mind. "I can give you memories."

The fairy's face shifted between many expressions. "We usually do not take memories from humans."

"I have unusual memories." He gave a faint smile. "I have too many memories. You make take what you wish."

She nodded once and placed a tiny head on his right temple. Right before he blacked out, he thought, _I should have set Mabel down._

* * *

_Whipping past his mind's eye, Ford saw once again the moons of Dimension 52, the strange people of Dimension 39Y, those octopus-pig-things, the children, the blood, Tina, Fiddleford, Stanley, Dipper, Mabel, faces, faces, faces, voices, voices, voices_

_WELL, WELL, WELL._

_Ford's mind recoiled from the voice. Bill._

_WHAT HAVE WE HERE? A SCIENTIST? WHAT'S A CUTIE LIKE YOU DOING HERE IN GRAVITY FALLS?_

" _I wanted to research anomalies...who are you?"_

_NAME'S BILL CIPHER. I LIKE YOU, KID. YOU'VE GOT POTENTIAL. IF YOU WANT, I CAN SHOW YOU THINGS YOU'D NEVER THINK OF DISCOVERING. YOU'D GET UNIVERSAL RECOGNITION._

" _I'm Stanford Pines. Sounds interesting."_

_SO YOU'RE IN? HOW'S ABOUT A DEAL? YOU LET ME INTO YOUR MIND FOREVER, AND YOU GET TO BUILD SOMETHING EXTRAORDINARY._

" _It's a deal."_

_Blue fire, a handshake, a warm sensation…._

_Backupsmore University. Cockroaches on his walls. Sharing a kiss with Fidds under the stars. Learning how to play the guitar._

_Turning away from Stanley's heartbroken face._

_Rage._

_Tears._

_Fear._

_Nothing._

* * *

"Stanford Pines. You mean well. We will not take your memories, or any payment. Save Gravity Falls. Save the fairies. Save the world."

He coughed and rubbed his blurry eyes. "Wh-what?"

"We will give you the cure."

"You didn't...take anything."

The fairy nodded. "You are pure. Your intentions are good. We require nothing from you." She pressed a glass bottle into his hand. "Now go. Your family needs you."

The fairies all swarmed into a group, then swirled away into the trees.

"Woah...Grunkle Ford, what happened?" Mabel was rubbing her eyes from where she was now sprawled on the ground.

"We got our cure." He grinned and held up the bottle.

"Yes!" Mabel was instantly awake, jumping with excitement. "You did it, Grunkle Ford!"

He grinned. "Yes, I suppose I did."

"Do you think...we have time to sleep?" Mabel asked him.

He felt his eyelids growing heavy. "Yes...I think we do."

She smiled and curled up beside him again. "Goodnight, Grunkle Ford."

His eyes shut on their own accord. "Goodnight, Tina," he mumbled.

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some kindness in the comments if you enjoyed this!


	11. Ray of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford dwells on the past. Stan worries about the present. Mabel focuses on the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teensy weensie warning for past abuse. Otherwise, enjoy!

Ford tossed and turned amid eerie dreams, his sleep disturbed and restless. In his mind, scenes from his past played in a slideshow of one bad memory after another.

_He watched again from the stairs as Stan was beaten by Pa before being shoved up to bed without dinner. He watched as his own younger self was threatened into getting better grades. He watched as Ma cried in a corner while Pa stormed out the door._

_He watched as Crampelter once again called him a freak. He watched as Stan took the blows for him. He watched as he gave hasty stitches to his twin in a dimly lit bedroom late at night._

_He watched his dreams crumble to dust before his eyes as his curtain fell back to reveal a broken project. He watched as Pa grabbed his twin by his shirt collar, called him millions of names that horrified Ford, threatened to knife him, and threw him on the street. He watched as he turned away and closed the curtains._

_He watched as he ripped the sheets from Stan's vacant bed, threw the small worthless wrestling trophy across the room, tore up papers, beat on walls, sobbed in a corner. He watched as he blankly boarded a train for Backupsmore University. He watched as he vacantly sat in an audience and pretended to hear the speech to the freshmen._

_He watched as every mistake he had ever made flashed before his dreaming eyes. Lucidly, he felt his physical body writhing in the pine needles, but he couldn't wrench himself awake. Everything he had worked for, a trick. Everyone he had loved, insane or dead. Everything he had believed, a lie._

_The portal flared, he was lifted through the air…."DO SOMETHING! STANLEYYY!"_

He jolted awake, his sweater soaked in cold sweat and his chest heaving. His right eye burned and he clutched at it, for a split second feeling as though Bill were once again inside his head. "Grunkle Ford?"

Mabel was peering down at him, looking utterly puzzled. "Are you okay?"

"Ah...yes. Yes, I'm fine." He scribbled something in the margin of a journal and stood. "Come, we must hurry!"

"Yeah...onwards!" The little girl skipped ahead of Ford, seeming to brighten the entire forest.

The forest was, in reality, darkening. Enormous grey clouds rolled in from the west, Ford instantly calculated, bringing with them some relief from the warm sun and the smell of impending rain. "Mmm, I love this smell," Mabel sighed. "It smells like life and happiness and summer!"

Ford took a deep breath and smiled, his heart rate slowing and his dark mind clearing. His niece never failed to be an endless fountain of joy. It was quite uplifting to be with her, hear her chatter, and forget about his past. She filled his heart with something akin to joy, a feeling that was quite rare for him these days.

The first drop of rain hit him right in the glasses a couple minutes later, followed almost immediately by a deluge. Mabel shrieked and Ford was about to offer her his coat when suddenly...she giggled. She stood there in the middle of the woods, the sky dark and rain soaking her through, and she laughed. Ford was so confused, he just stood there and blinked.

"Grunkle Ford! It's raining! It's so nice! The air's so much cooler, and look, the trees are happy!"

He looked around at the trees. They seemed to dance as the rain pounded down and a breeze gusted through. Despite the dark environment and the sense of utter hopelessness that had clouded his mind since he'd woken up, Ford smiled genuinely. The rain was pretty nice.

_A sudden flashback to a rainy day outside with Stanley. The Stan O' War was still in progress, and the two were determined to finish it. Although the rain blew across the deck in sheets, the twin brothers continued to hammer the boards into place. It was coming along splendidly. "Stan?" Ford asked loudly over the sounds of the beating surf._

" _What's up, nerd?"_

" _What if our plans change?"_

" _What do you mean?" The question was casual but Stan's shoulders were stiff._

" _What if...one of us decides we don't want to go adventuring. What if one of us wanted to...say...make a science project that would change the world?"_

" _Hmmm...would it get them rich?"_

_Ford laughed. "Yeah."_

" _Would they have babes hangin' off their arms?"_

" _Probably."_

" _Would they get out of this crummy town?"_

" _Definitely."_

" _Then I say, who cares? They'd be happy."_

" _What about you? Would you be happy?"_

" _I'd be happy with whatever my bro does...as long as he's not killin' himself doin' it." Stan glanced back at Ford and winked._

_Ford laughed again. "I won't, Stan. I won't."_

Ford blinked. "Mabel, we really need to get out of this rain."

"Where are we gonna go? And you said yourself that we couldn't waste any time! We're just gonna have to get wet."

Taken aback by the child's determination, yet sharing a similar belief, Ford could only nod and follow the little girl through the woods.

"If my calculations are correct," Ford muttered to himself, "we should reach where they're hidden in about four days."

"Four days?" Mabel exclaimed. "But that's so long!"

"I know. It should get us there right as the ceremony is beginning. Just in time."

Lightning flashed and Mabel flinched. "Rain's one thing," she said, "but thunder and lightning? No thanks!"

She ran to him and latched firmly onto his hand. His whole body stiffened for half an instant before relaxing and giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "Come on," he said gently, "Dipper and Stanley need us."

Together they headed into the unknown.

* * *

" _Ford?"_

" _Mmm?"_

" _I'm scared."_

" _You? Scared? What could possibly scare you?"_

" _Thunder. It's so loud is all."_

" _Come on, bro, it's just clouds creating a static charge and producing lightning."_

_A nervous laugh. "Nerd."_

_Ford sighed. "C'mere."_

_A moment of clambering and scuffling as Stanley climbed up the ladder to the top bunk. "Look, bro," Ford said, "you can be scared all you want here."_

_Stan smiled as Ford put an arm around his shoulders._

" _But," Ford continued, "you can't just climb up here to me every time there's a storm."_

" _Awh, why not?"_

" _Because," Ford sighed, "you're afraid of heights! You'd have two fears rolled into one!"_

" _I just won't look down."_

_Ford flopped back onto his pillow and rolled onto his side. "Stay here all you want. But don't wake me up every time there's a flash of lightning."_

_He felt Stanley curl up at the end of the bed and the two brothers were soon sleeping soundly._

* * *

"Grunkle Ford, look, I think the sky's clearing up over there!"

His head swung around to look at where Mabel pointed. Sure enough, a little glimpse of blue sky was visible. "Great." He smiled. "Come on, no time to waste!" He took off at a quick, purposeful stride.

Mabel gave him a sly sideways look as she followed. "I'll race you to the next fallen tree we see."

"I'm warning you, I ran across several dimensions. I'm not as easy to beat as my brother."

"It's on."

With shouts of laughter in the ever-ebbing rain, the pair took off running, feet slipping on the wet pine needles. Mabel spotted the fallen tree first after only two or so minutes and sprinted ahead. "I'm gonna beat ya!" she shrieked.

"No, you're not!" Ford pulled ahead.

"Hey!" She put on an extra burst of speed. The two passed the tree at exactly the same time.

"Whoo! I think...that was a tie!" Ford panted, slowing to a walk.

"You bet it was! Wow, Grunkle Ford, you can really run fast!" Mabel gasped.

"I had to, while I was in the portal…." _Flashes of those times running through villages with Tina grasping his hand while his scarf was tugged up firmly across his face. Interdimensional police chased after them. Ford's bag was heavy with stolen equipment._

A squeal in a pitch that he thought human vocal chords shouldn't be able to create distracted him from his flashback. "Aaaah! Look, look, look, a rainbow!"

Sure enough, stretching across the blue-tinted early afternoon sky was an enormous rainbow. He sighed. The rainbow after the thunderstorm, after all, seemed to be a message from the universe telling him that everything was going to be okay in the end.

* * *

Dipper and Stan weren't seeing any blue skies or rainbows. All Dipper was seeing was nightmarish visions of Stan dying in multiple, increasingly gruesome ways. What was real? What was false?

All Stan could do was watch in horror from against the wall as his nephew hovered, suspended horizontally, in midair, surrounded by malicious black tendrils of smoke that curled in and out of his body. Occasionally, Dipper would moan or scream, but for the most part, the child was unconscious and unresponsive.

Would they ever be saved?

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave some kindness in the comments if you liked this!


	12. Poem of Fae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford and Mabel receive help from another of Ford's old friends, in the form of a poem. Stan finds out what part he must play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S ME, BILL! DUE TO A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING IN OUR DEAL, THE AUTHOR NO LONGER HAS ANY CONTROL OVER THESE NOTES...BUT I DON'T GET THE WHOLE STORY. SO NOW YOU PATHETIC EXCUSES FOR CORPOREAL BEINGS GET TO HAVE THE GRAND MASTER OF NIGHTMARES AS YOUR CO-HOST! YOU'RE WELCOME!  
> THE AUTHOR HAS ASKED ME TO WARN YOU OF A FEW THINGS THAT MIGHT TURN UP IN THIS CHAPTER: SOME DELICIOUS BLOOD, SOME JUICY MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE, AND SOME DELIGHTFUL PANIC ATTACKS.

The darkness was thick, almost suffocating, like a large blanket draped over Stan's face. He could feel slight movements in the air around him, but his vision was useless. _This is just like that time when Rico and his jerks threw me in that trunk just beyond the Mexican border…._

Stan figured he should probably say something. It was so quiet in there…. "Uh...hey! Um...could you make it...less dark?"

Silence.

"Why am I even here? Why do you need me 'n Dipper, but not my brother or my niece? What's so special about me?"

 _Doooo not worryyyy...you have your ownnnnnnn fate._ The voice was deep, breathy, and hoarse.

A sudden swoop, a dramatic change in the air currents, a sound of rushing wind. And the blackness around Stan deepened.

* * *

"Grunkle Ford?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why'd they take Grunkle Stan if they only needed Dipper to open the portal?"

Ford stopped in his tracks. "I...don't know," he said, his eyes widening. _Why wasn't I thinking about that? How did I miss that? What have I been doing?_ "I…."

"Maybe this whole thing was a prank," the child suggested with false hope. "Maybe Grunkle Stan and Dipper are gonna be waiting for us with a giant party!"

He wasn't listening to her babble. His mind was a mantra of, _They'll be okay. You'll think of something. They'll be okay. You'll think of something. They'll be okay. You'll think of something. They-_

"Are you okay? You're a little shaky."

"Y-yeah." _They won't be okay. You'll never think of anything. They won't be okay. You'll never think of anything. They won't be okay. You'll never think of anything. They'll die and it'll be all your fault. All your fault. All your fault. All your-_

"It's not your fault, you know."

 _Huh?_ Could she read his mind?

She took both his freakish hands in hers and looked solemnly up at him. "I know how you think, Grunkle Ford. We're a lot alike sometimes. But it's not your fault. It's that stupid monster's fault. You didn't choose any of this. You couldn't do anything to make sure it didn't happen. So whatever happens, it's not gonna be your fault."

Tears rose unbidden to his eyes. He blinked them away and said as calmly as he could, "Thanks, dear."

"Yep! I mean, I've already talked to Grunkle Stan-he was dealing with some stuff the night you came back-so I know how to talk to my favorite grunkles. Especially when they have-" here she put on a silly grouchy voice- " _crippling guilt."_ She grinned. "They'll be fine."

Her optimism seemed to be contagious, for he found himself agreeing. _They'll be fine. They'll be fine. They'll be fine._

* * *

"Wh-what do you want?"

Darkness. Deeper than black. The air was thick, compressing his lungs. Was it even air? Was he even breathing?

"Wh-why am I here?"

Silence. The soundlessness crushed his eardrums. The air was dead. His ears buzzed.

"I'm...not afraid." Despite this statement, his voice was saturated with fear.

"Ford?" he whimpered after a long, almost eternal pause. "A little help here?"

" _Ford...a little help here?" He pulled himself through the window. He had no idea what time it was, but it was late._

_There was a rushing sound and suddenly he was on the floor and Ford was beside him and there was blood and pain and pain and pain and all he could remember was a knife and a left hook and a dark alley and a voice calling his brother a freak._

_And when he opened his eyes-when had he closed them?-his brother was panting and crying and his hands were covered in blood and he held a needle and he was saying something like "you almost died."_

He felt that pain now as he hovered in the nothingness, the more-than-darkness. It ripped at his stomach and at his mind. He cried out but the sound was absorbed immediately.

Then, an echoing voice, deep and hollow, spoke thunderously in his mind, tearing at his skull. _I HAVE CHOSEN YOU, STANLEY PINES. I HAVE CHOSEN YOU AS MY VESSEL._

"Your...whatnow?"

_I SHALL LIVE WITHIN YOU. I SHALL REMOVE YOU FROM YOUR BODY AND REPLACE YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS WITH MINE. YOU WILL LIVE ON AS INCORPOREAL AS I AM NOW. I HAVE CHOSEN YOU, STANLEY PINES._

"Why me? Why not someone younger?"

_AGE MEANS NOTHING. TIME MEANS NOTHING. YOUR BODY WILL NOT AGE ONCE IT CONTAINS ME, AND I WILL ONLY MAKE IT STRONGER. WITH YOU AS MY VESSEL I WILL RULE THIS PLANET._

"Oh...oh, no. This...this is bad!"

The thunderous voice laughed, Stan's mind felt as if it was splitting in half, and once again there was nothing.

* * *

"Um...what if Stan's gotta go through the portal when it opens to take the monsters through?"

"That makes no sense...but it's a good thought."

Mabel sat on Ford's shoulders and continued with her theories and suggestions-as wild as they were-while he power-walked through the woods. With no idea where they were going or what they were doing, it was difficult to tell exactly when they'd arrive...or if they'd even arrive at all. They needed help desperately and Ford knew it.

He began racking his brain for anything that might be of help to them, but he'd never ventured this far into the woods before. "Grunkle Ford, what's that?"

The child's voice broke through his desperate searching. "What's what, dear?"

"That." She pointed.

Following her pointing finger, he saw...something...dart between the trees ahead of them. "I don't know," he said. "Let's follow it!"

He slid the child down to a less precarious perch on his back and began to jog after the mysterious figure. "How can we be sure it's not someone trying to lead us away?" Mabel asked.

"How can we be sure it isn't someone trying to help?"

Mabel remained silent. He could almost hear the pout.

The trees were a blur of brown and green, nothing more than an impressionistic rendering of plant life as Ford pursued whoever it was. It was almost impossibly fast, but Ford was not slow either. Mabel clutched Ford's slightly dilapidated coat desperately. Finally, the creature stopped and quickly scaled a tree. Ford skidded to a halt and, shading his eyes, stared fiercely up into the foliage.

A few feet away, a tree rustled. Ford whirled.

A pine cone was hurled at his head from behind.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Ford said loudly.

Another rustle from a tree close to his right.

"We just want to know if we're going in the correct direction."

Silence.

"Let me try," Mabel whispered to Ford. Then, louder, she said, "We've already talked to fairies and centaurs and they've helped us. Can you help us too?"

A timid female voice. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mabel. I'm looking for my twin brother, Dipper, and Grunkle Ford here's looking for his twin, Stan. Can you help?"

A pause. "Ford? As in...Stanford Pines?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm Flora. The Dryad you saved over thirty years ago." A pale green face peeked out from the foliage.

Ford took a step forward. "Flora...it's been too long."

Mabel saw a darker green spread across Flora's cheeks. "You've hardly aged at all, Stanford," the dryad whispered.

"Me? No," the scientist laughed. "My body isn't what it used to be...and look at this grey hair! You, however...still as beautiful as when I last saw you."

"Stanford!"

"Grunkle Ford! Not the time for flirting with your old girlfriend!"

"She's not my-never mind. Flora, please. We need your help to find where the portal will open."

Her face darkened. "Stanford, you cannot go there."

"I have to. It's for my brother. I never thanked him, never made up to him...now maybe I never will. I need to find him."

"And I've gotta find my brother too!"

"It is impossible."

"Nothing's impossible!" Mabel piped. "We've made it this far!"

Flora sighed and the entire tree swayed. "Alright. I'll tell you what I know." Her eyes glazed over. " _Follow the pinks to the place where the fairies play. From there, the ancient pine will show the way. Over a river and through a storm to a place that's always warm. Heed the warning of the three-headed father and take the path unlike the others. You then must climb beneath the sea and there you'll set your family free. But be warned, my travellers, for what's inside. There's many a place for death to hide. And in the end bad luck may strike but darkness cannot cover light."_

"What was that?" Mabel asked.

"An old fae poem. I believe it will lead you there. You have less than four days. Good luck, my Stanford. And good luck, child."

A rustle from the tree and Flora vanished.

"Follow the pinks," Mabel said.

"I think I know what that means," Ford mused. "Let's go!"

He tramped through the woods for a long time before stopping and bending down to look at something. "Yes. This is it."

"What's it?"

"Pinks. Flowers." He picked one and handed it to Mabel. "We have to follow them to a stream."

"Well, let's get going!" Mabel exclaimed. "Dipper and Stan aren't gonna free themselves!"

* * *

The sun was almost set and Ford was quickly fading from exhaustion when a dancing pink light caught his eye. "Look, Mabel, a fairy!" He took up a quick stride towards the source of the light, and the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the trees. Suddenly, swarms of the tiny creatures were spiraling down from the treetops and heading in one direction. Ford realized that he had to follow them.

His heavy combat boots crushed the pine needles underfoot as he carefully searched for the meeting-place of the fairies. And suddenly they were there, right on the edge of a stream. A gigantic pine tree stood with its roots half in the water and coated in a rainbow of fairies. "Woah," Mabel breathed.

"An ancient pine will show the way," Ford murmured. "Something about this tree's going to point us in the right direction."

"Look," Mabel said, "the moss is all on that one side of the tree."

"But it's not the north side," Ford muttered. "That's the way we have to go."

"Over a river and through a storm," Mabel quoted. "Whatever that means, that's our next clue."

A few fairies tried to cling to the pair as they crossed the stream and continued on their journey through the night, but the speed of the travelers forced the tiny creatures to let go.

* * *

Waddles and Author could smell the trouble. It roiled in the air and made their stomachs turn. Something Big was going to Happen. The Pull was so strong on them, they couldn't have stopped if they'd wanted to. A relentless need tugged them along. Somehow they knew they'd have a part in whatever was about to Happen.

A path of flowers gradually greeted them as they walked into the night. They didn't even stop for a look.

A swarm of rainbow-colored flying girls clustered around a gigantic tree. The scent was strong here. The animals crossed the stream together. They were getting closer, they knew it.

Moonlight lit their path with a silver glow. Waddles looked at Author, who hooted softly back. Sleep was necessary. The Pull could wait until they had rested.

And the forest was anything but still.

* * *

 

**WKHB'UH JHWWLQJ FORVHU WR WKHLU JRDO, GUDZQ EB WKH SRZHU RI WKH SXOO. DQ DQFLHQW IDH VRQJ OHDGV WKHP RQ, IRXU GDBV ZHUH JLYHQ...PLQXV RQH.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE I COME INTO THIS SOMEWHERE!...THE AUTHOR SAYS I DON'T. OH WELL. MAKE SURE TO GIVE US SOME COMMENTS! AND IF YOU LEAVE US NASTY ONES, I'LL REARRANGE ALL THE ORIFICES IN YOUR FACE!


	13. Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan is more afraid than ever, while Mabel helps Ford get over one of his own fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL, WELL, WELL. IF IT ISN'T CHAPTER 13! THE AUTHOR SAYS I SHOULD PROBABLY WARN YOU ABOUT THE MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND SUCH, BUT I DON'T SEE WHAT THE BIG DEAL IS! YOU HUMANS AND YOUR PUNY LITTLE MINDS, RIGHT?

"'Over a river and through a storm to a place that's always warm,'" Ford said for probably the tenth time that morning. They'd stopped for a rest the night before when Ford realized that he had no coffee to keep him going all night and he'd ended up nearly dropping Mabel. Now, as the sun rose and the hawktopi screeched, the pair of adventurers were ready to continue their search.

"I know what the poem says," Mabel grumbled. "We just haven't gotten there yet."

"The thing is, Mabel," Ford said, his "thinking voice" on, "the only actual river in Gravity Falls is on the other side of the woods. The way we're going, we won't run into a river."

"Hmmm."

They continued their walk in silence, until Ford grunted and said, "You're beginning to hurt my shoulders, kid, I've gotta let you down." Mabel nodded and slid down his back to the ground, where she latched onto his hand and skipped through the woods.

Her smile was definitely contagious. He'd have to research that later….

* * *

Stan opened his eyes, gasping and sitting up so fast his head spun. What had happened? Was that real? Was it a trick? Or was it just a nightmare?

No, the voice was real. The feeling of floating, suspended in nothing like the bottomless pit, was real. The fear was real. It was all too, too real.

But what could he do? He was up there in age-really up there-and there was no way out. He could kill himself but….

No. He couldn't kill himself. That was a stupid, selfish, petty idea. He had to stick around for the kids' sakes. _Imagine what that would do to Dipper,_ he told himself.

He glanced up at the kid who was still levitating in that spot, occasionally groaning, his arms and fingers unconsciously twitching and jerking, his head rolling from side to side. Snakes of a black smoky substance swirled around and through the twelve-year-old. His hat was on the floor, his bangs floating up to expose the odd birthmark, the symbol of the Big Dipper.

* * *

The sun indicated that it was a little past noon, and the temperature further proved that fact. Mabel was getting rather warm in her torn sweater and Ford was sweating in his trench coat. All these discomforts, however, were set aside when Mabel stumbled, screamed, kicked out, and started crying.

"Mabel, what happened?"

She pointed. A rather large snake was slithering off into the brush. Ford swore and muttered something about not keeping a closer eye on the forest floor. Then he said to Mabel, "Sweetie, I need you to calm down. Look at me and listen carefully." Her frantic shrieks resolved into faint whimpers and she looked at him. "You've been bitten by a Western rattlesnake. Their venom is rather dangerous to humans, and I need you to stay calm. An elevated heart rate will only make the venom spread faster. Do you understand?" A nod.

"You're lucky it bit you where it did," he added, sitting Mabel down on a rock and looking at the wound. "It hit the ankle bone and missed any major bloodstreams, but you're still gonna feel woozy for a bit after I'm done doing what I'm going to do, okay?" Another nod confirmed that she understood.

Then he was at work with a determination, the old practices he'd used on Fidds and sometimes himself kicking in: _Suck and spit, suck and spit,_ and Mabel was sniffling- _suck and spit, suck and spit, get the venom, get the venom, get the venom,_ and then he was pulling out a small tube of antibacterial and a bandage and applying it ever so gently and then, on an impulse he'd never before felt, kissed the bandage and said, "All better," in a voice so paternal he scared himself.

If she noticed his alarm at his sudden opening up, she didn't say anything. Instead, she took a couple deep breaths, wiped the tears from her face, and grinned. "Thanks, Grunkle Ford."

He helped her to her feet, where she wobbled but remained upright. "Can you walk alright?" he asked.

"Um...I'll tell you in a minute." She took a few cautious steps. "I think I'll be okay."

He was unusually concerned about the child, he realized. Normally, he would have stood her up and continued walking without waiting to see if she actually could follow. That's what he'd always done with Fiddleford. Thirty years ago, he wouldn't have even dreamed of carrying a child on his back through the woods. Thirty years ago, he probably wouldn't have embarked on this quest to save his brother and Dipper.

But nothing had been the same since thirty years ago. He was a new man, with new priorities, new goals, and new desires. A new family...new friends….His fist clenched. He couldn't handle the swell of emotion.

"Ugh...Grunkle Ford, my tummy's holding a rebellion."

He looked down. The girl seemed a little green. "That would be the venom, dear. Sit down for a moment if you need."

" _Stanford," Fiddleford gasped, "I ain't feelin' so good."_

" _That would probably be the venom." The response was chipper and carefree._

_A moment's pause._

" _Ah...Ford...you might wanna…" Thud._

_Ford whirled around. Fiddleford was lying on the ground, eyes glassy, mouth dribbling as his hand fell from his side to reveal a large bite mark that wept blood and a thin green liquid. His skin looked ghastly, pale and coated in sweat. The six-fingered scientist cringed, realizing what he had to do._

_Suck and spit, suck and spit, he had no idea how long he'd been doing it, but Fiddleford had gone limp and almost too still, Ford had always hated his banjo music and terrible habit of making moonshine in his backyard but he'd never expected that it would end and he was surprised to admit it but he was going to miss the southerner's strange habits and…._

" _Ugh...Ford, you can stop now."_

" _Fiddleford!" It was a strange feeling, joy. He hadn't actually felt it in a long, long time. "Fiddleford, buddy, you're okay!"_

" _Not too sure about that, but-"_

" _We've gotta get you back to the house and-"_

"Grunkle Ford, you're spacing out again."

Mabel waved her hand in front of Ford's face to demonstrate her point.

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Never mind that, no time to waste." She pulled herself onto his shoulders gracelessly and they began to walk again.

* * *

The pig and the bird traveled onwards. The Pull was stronger than it had ever been, and it just got more powerful the farther they walked. It was a gut feeling, like a fishing line set deep in their stomachs, reeling them in. They would have to play a part in whatever monumental act was going to happen, they were sure of it.

Waddles snuffled around the roots of a tree. A small scrap of pink fabric nestled there. She had been this way! He oinked once to Author, and the pair increased their speed. Maybe they could catch up to Them before They got to the end of Their journey!

A scream pierced the air. It was Her! Waddles squealed and took off, the bat-owl close behind.

Whatever had happened to Her, it was not going to stop them from getting everyone to where they needed to be.

* * *

"I have a feeling we're getting close," Mabel said giddily after nearly two hours of endless, silent trudging. The sun was setting. She'd been saying that for the past hour. Then, suddenly, "Hey, what's that hissing noise?"

Ford froze, then pointed. "Over a river," he gasped. "I always thought it was gonna be water."

A writhing river of snakes greeted them. "Hey, at least we found it...right?" Mabel said shakily.

Ford managed a nod. Then, he did that chest-puffy-outy-thing that always made Mabel's heart gush with how amazing it was, and said in his deep, important-y voice, "We have to make it across."

"We can use my grappling hook to swing across."

"It's too wide."

"We can go around it?"

"Too long."

"We can...find a big log and lay it across?"

"I can't carry that!"

"Then how…?" Mabel trailed off. She was staring intensely at the river. "Grunkle Ford, do you see what I see?"

He squinted. "Mmmm...no."

"I see an invisible bridge."

"A what?!"

"An invisible bridge! All we have to do is trust that it's underneath us and we'll be able to get across!"

Ford opened his mouth to object.

"Do you trust me, Grunkle Ford?"

A pause, and then an affirmative sound. "Great!" Mabel shrieked. "Come on!"

Mabel slid off her grunkle's shoulders and led him to where she saw the bridge. "Right here."

"I don't see-"

She took a step. Ford cringed, Mabel grinned…

"There, see?"

His jaw dropped. There she was, standing in midair! "Alright, now it's gonna be a bit of a walk across the bridge," the child continued, completely unperturbed by the notion that there was a sea of writhing reptiles beneath her. "Come on, Grunkle Ford, you're not afraid of some snakes, are you?"

He flinched. "Of course not."

She squinted at him. "You sure?"

He flailed his hands in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. "Very."

Her face softened. "It's okay, Grunkle Ford. If I can get Grunkle Stan over his fear of heights, I can get you over your fear of snakes."

He barely had the chance to register that she'd gotten his twin over his fear of heights before she was dragging him onto the invisible bridge. "Just look at me. Look at me, Grunkle Ford," she coaxed.

Ford valiantly tried to conceal the fact that his hands were trembling. But he looked at her, at her warm eyes so like his brother's, at her outstretched hand gripping his, at her quick-moving feet, and before they both knew it, they had reached the other side of the "river."

Mabel screamed in triumph. "YES!"

A long puff of air blew out of Ford's lungs as he exhaled for the first time since he stepped on the bridge. "Now that that's over with-"

"We have to get through the storm," Mabel finished.

A low, vibrating hum thrummed in the air. "This way," Ford said. "We might as well keep going."

Mabel nodded and latched onto his hand, and they kept going.

It didn't take the pair long to reach the "storm."

It was a gigantic cloud of humming, thrumming...creatures. Part smoke, part animal, they wriggled and writhed in the air on strange scaled wings. "This could be harder than I thought," Ford said.

* * *

Dipper let out a particularly painful scream, making Stan cringe. Time was running out. There were only two days left, and then Dipper would be dead, Stan would be possessed, and the world would be destroyed.

Stan had stopped thinking about why they didn't seem to need food, only water. He'd stopped thinking about Ford and Mabel. He'd stopped thinking about everything except those words: _I HAVE CHOSEN YOU AS MY VESSEL._

What would it be like? Would it hurt? Would he be free of all worldly burdens? Would he be able to see clearly without those damned cataracts? Or would he vanish forever? What would that be like? Not being? He'd considered the possibilities several times. But this time was different. He was being yanked from his body. Would that destroy him? Would it drive him mad?

What would happen to his body?

What would happen to the world?

* * *

Mabel flailed helplessly against the almost-intangible creatures that batted at her head and brushed against her skin and her clothes. "Grunkle...Ford...what are...these things?"

"They're...like nothing I've...ever seen before...not even...in the other...dimensions…."

"I'll...call them...smoke-cat-birds…"

"That's...ridiculous…."

"Better than just…'things'..."

"I'm...not even sure...there's a way...out of this…."

"There's gotta be...a way….You've just gotta...think differently…."

Mabel flung herself flat on the ground. "Like me!"

Ford followed suit. "Why, it's completely clear under here!'

"Lucky I found it," she grinned. "Come on, let's get through the storm!"

Crawling across the pine-covered ground, the pair made painstakingly slow progress. When they finally dragged themselves out, the moon was casting silver beams on them.

There was a quiet bubbling. Steam filled the air, reflecting the moonlight. "Hot springs?" Ford said.

"A place that's always warm!" Mabel shrieked. "Grunkle Ford, look how much progress we made!"

"Yes, it's great, dear. But we should sleep, now. It's been a long day."

"Mmmm...you're right….the steam's making me sleepy."

Ford leaned back against the tree, gathering Mabel close to him, and as he dozed off, he heard himself mumble, "Three-headed father…."

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL, THAT WAS A WONDERFUL CHAPTER. TOO BAD I WASN'T IN IT. THE AUTHOR APOLOGIZES FOR THE GAP IN UPDATES. LEAVE COMMENTS OR I'LL RIP YOUR DIMENSION APART!


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